The Valiant Heart
by CaptainAmberRose
Summary: Nothing is impossible to a valiant heart. For Lady Clark of Books challenge - but its kind of strayed a bit. Will Centric but everyone pops up at random points. W/S, G/M, R/M, A/OC, OC/OC Yeah thats about it. Still nameless - if anyone can think of a name
1. Rising

Will was up at sunrise, as the huge red eye climbed the frost-rimmed lime-green hills of Nottingham Town. It was peaceful, early in the morning; no-one up, no talking, nothing. And for a short while, he could pretend to himself that everything was normal, everything was fine. In the silence that was thick enough to swallow him, he could kid himself that his mother wasn't desperately ill, wasn't dying, that she was asleep across the hall in the bedroom with his father.

But it wasn't. And she wasn't. So he got dressed and stuffed his school clothes into a sports bag and left the house silently, as he did every morning. He hated being in the house now, it was so empty, silent and lonely without her, a constant reminder that she was somewhere else, dying somewhere other than her own home.

"NO." he told himself out loud, to drive away the thought, "She isn't dying. She can't."

The house was colourless now, bland and a constant, painful echo of all the wonderful memories he had of living there.

Will was pretty certain that no-one knew of his early morning visits; he was up at the crack of dawn, and only returned when his little brother was fast asleep. He couldn't stand being there now. It just felt empty and wrong, and he was desperate not to return until he had to.

He shivered as the icy coil of wind tore savagely at his skin, biting him with teeth sharper than needles, chilling him to the bone. The black T-shirt he wore clung loosely to him as he ran, doing little to drive away the chill wind that ate away at him.

He could have simply taken the bus, but few travelled at this time, and it cost money, something he didn't have, as his bus pass only subsidised certain buses.

There was another reason as well. Being constantly tense and worried about his mother's health had left him with an uncontrollable, accumulated store of nervous energy, the kind that made him want to pace, or yell or something, so running helped to use up that energy.

The hospice wasn't too far away; and running, it took him little more than 15 minutes.

He had never told his friends about his mother, well he had told Marian, but she was more in tune with his feelings than the others, and she was in the same year, and the others were older. It wasn't to say he didn't trust them or anything, it was just….he struggled to think. He didn't know really. He just hated having to pretend that everything was alright, when it so clearly wasn't.

He slipped in quietly after registering at the reception. The hospice was quite small, but the staff were friendly, and there was a supposedly wonderful view overlooking the river. He could understand why his mother had chosen to spend her last days here.

_NO_he told himself again, firmly _she couldn't die. She had to stay alive, for them. _

He traced a path to the cancer ward almost subconsciously, knowing every corner of the place and hated it. He hated its purpose, and he hated it that his mother had come here to die, with no hope left, no fight left in her. He hated the cancer, its treatment and its effects. He hated it that his mother might never come home, might die alone here without her family and her home.

He hated the whole situation.

He swallowed as he reached the door. Immediately questions accumulated in his skull, clamouring to be answered. Would she be worse or better than yesterday? Would she even be able to talk? Will hesitated, taking a breath as his fingers traced the smooth, cool wood of the door, gripping the handle tightly.

He pushed the door open gently, "Mum?"

There was no response. The room was warm, unlike the bitterness of the cold outside. The large window reflected the winter scene; bare, grey, skeletal trees, an icy, pallid river, and fields crisp with frozen dew.

His gaze fell on the emaciated shell that his beautiful, wonderful mother; so full of life and love; had become.

He tried again, "Mum?"

The sleeping figure on the bed murmured incoherently in their unconscious state, stirring weakly. Tubes protruded haphazardly from her flesh mainly morphine, to stem the agony that wracked her skeletal frame.

Will slipped into the chair beside the bedside, linking long slender fingers with his mother's bony, jutting claws, "Mum?"

The emaciated figure twisted, exhausted, to face her son. A small smile lit the pale, almost transparent features, the once sharp, twinkling brown eyes, faded and misty. She was barely a shadow of her former self. "Will." She blinked, trying to focus tired eyes, "Shouldn't you be at school darling?"

He shook his head, "No, were on holiday Mum." He lied, a lump in his throat choking the words he spoke. He hated lying, longed to tell her the truth; that he hated school, dreaded still more returning home to a house empty and cold, without her.

"I'm sorry, my darling. It's just so hard. I'm so tired. Sometimes I just want to go to sleep and never wake up." A tear trickled down her cheek as she spoke.

"Please don't cry, Mum." He whispered, fighting tears himself. It was unbearable. She was always so strong. To see her like this was….horrible.

"I'm sorry Will." She whispered, "It just hurts so much. I want it to end." Her voice was fading as she grew drowsy. In seconds she was asleep again.

Her hands still clutched his, and he pulled away gently, so as not to waken her. He swallowed, looking down her. She seemed so small, so fragile and so empty.

"Bye Mum." He whispered.

Suddenly she seemed terrifyingly frail and thin.

She had to keep fighting. For all of them.


	2. Disintegrating

_Hey again, thanks for all your fantastic reviews, here's the next chapter. Apologise for my poor writing skills. R & R xxx._

He slipped into school, vaguely aware that he was incredibly late for lessons. Quietly, he made his way to his first lesson, which was nearly over by the time he reached it. He peered through the small window in the door; Mr Lindsey was predominantly in the middle of the classroom, giving another of his depressing and energy-sapping lectures; there was no chance of slipping in unnoticed.

Part of him felt like running, as far as he could go, to the ends of the earth and beyond, and fall off, if possible. The other part wanted to curl up and sleep.

The lack of sleep was beginning to take its toll, but he found the tiredness helped to distract him from worrying about his mother's constantly deteriorating health. He was too exhausted to be tense, from both the physical exertion of the run this earlier that morning, and the mental exhaustion as well. Someday it would catch up with him, but at the moment, he really didn't care.

Then, suddenly something grabbed him around the waist, and he almost leapt out of his skin. He twisted around violently, expecting to see Guy, or Vaysey, the ring leaders of Year 10's group of problem teenagers. He was even more surprised to see Marian behind him, bent over in silent hysterics.

"Don't do that!" he exclaimed, forgetting that he had to keep his voice low. She clamped a hand tightly over his mouth "ssshh!" she whispered. "What are you doing?" he hissed. She grinned, "You sound like Robin."

He rolled his eyes. Marian had never quite given in to Robin's constant pestering. It was certainly no secret that the Year 10 boy had a soft spot for her, and he made no attempt to hide it. Marian knew it, and used it to her advantage, snubbing the egotistical attempts the teenager had made to charm her, but accepting the gifts and chocolate with an amused smile. Any other teenage girl would have fallen head over heels, and gone all giggly, and made no attempt to refuse his offers. But Will knew that Marian was no ordinary teenager girl, and she refused to be treated like a cheap prize that could be bought by money and lavish gifts. If Robin Huntingdon wanted to impress her, then he'd have to find another tactic. But he knew that Robin already held Marian's heart; she just wanted him to prove that he could show compassion. He had a sneaking feeling that Marian actually enjoyed rebuffing the teenager's countless attempts to make her his.

"What _are_ you doing?" he repeated. "I missed the bus." "Daydreaming?" Marian flushed pink, "Yes." She admitted. He grinned, "About a certain Robin Huntingdon?" This remark earned him a sharp slap, "Watch it Will Scarlett." She scolded severely. Then her face softened. "How's your Mum?" she asked gently.

Will froze at her words. For a second she saw raw fear in his eyes as he fought to control his emotions. A muscle in his jaw twitched. He swallowed, "She's...alright. No better." His voice faltered, "She just looks really thin and...fragile. Like she's got no hope or fight left in her. She said herself that she wants to die."

Marian squeezed his arm gently, "She's strong, your mum. She'll keep fighting." _ She has to_, she added silently.

Will swallowed as images of his mother floated detached through his brain, and blinked back the tears that desperately wanted to fall. He shook his head to clear the pictures, to control his emotions. He had to control them. Or risk losing it altogether.

He forced a grin onto his face. "So how's things with Robin?" She scowled, "God, he's so flaming persistent. I swear to you, I will wring his neck one day. And that complete slimeball Guy has been sniffing around me again, like some stupid little dog." "Tell me you're not thinking of going out with him?" She looked revolted, "Of course not! How could you even...That is truly disgusting." Then she grinned, "Although..."

"You could pretend to be interested in him. It'd drive Robin insane." Will added, with an evil grin. For a short while, in Marian's company, he was able to relax, and feel like a normal teenager, with normal problems. She understood. He didn't have to pretend for her, didn't have to pretend that everything was alright, when it definitely wasn't.

Marian easily accepted the challenge, "Anything to wipe that smug, arrogant grin off his face." She couldn't resist a challenge. And any challenge that could so easily wind Robin up, was an added bonus. But at the moment, she was more worried about her best friend.

Will seemed to look more and more exhausted every time she saw him. The dark shadows underneath his eyes spoke the words he couldn't. His skin was as pale as milk, a combination of exhaustion, and tension, of living in fear that his mother's health might deteriorate rapidly at any minute. Now, more than ever, she felt desperately sorry for him.

Suddenly, she flung her arms around his neck, hugging him tightly, surprised at herself. He hesitated, taken aback, before hugging her back just as warmly.

"You're not alone, Will." She whispered in his ear, "You're not alone."


	3. Aggravating

_Hey, Thanks for all your reviews, hope this is okay. R & R xxxx_

_-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------_

The bell rang shrilly and terrifyingly loud, jerking the young couple apart. Marian straightened up, "Make sure Robin notices me, kay Will?" "Yeah, sure." "Well." She took a deep breath, "Well here goes. Having lunch with that slimeball will certainly put me off food for a while. Let's hope he doesn't bring his babysitter. Vaysey's even worse. And he's the intelligent one."

"Good Luck." "I'll need it." She squeezed his hand, "Remember what I said." He smiled, "I will."

And then they were torn apart by the vast hordes of desperate teenagers pouring from their classrooms like ants fleeing boiling water.

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Will slipped into his usual place at lunch, between John and the wall, wondering what lengths Marian would go to, to antagonise Robin. The gang were there, Robin included; it was a day like no other. Except for what Marian was planning, or rather, enduring.

Luckily Robin had his back to the hall entrance, as Marian entered, arms linked with Guy, and so didn't catch the wink she directed at Will, which announced his cue to begin the charade.

He nudged Robin, and feigned a bemused expression as the older boy looked up, "Isn't that Marian with Guy over there?" Robin jerked around, and his head shot up so fast that he nearly dislocated his neck, momentarily stunned, and speechless. After managing a string of meaningless gabble of syllables for well over half a minute, he finally gathered his startled wits enough to form a coherent sentence. "What," he blurted out, at last, "Is she doing over there with that...that...that...well that?"

"Maybe she found Guy more charming than you," Will interjected with a impish grin. "I am charming!" Robin protested "I am!" his face heightened to a more violent shade of beetroot as the gang laughed at his outburst. "I'll show her! Allan, come with me." He stalked off angrily, dragging the other boy with him.

"Oh yes," commented Much dryly, after the two had stormed off. "Because Allan knows a lot about romance. He's been out with half our year group, and never managed to keep a girl longer than two days. That shows a lot." "It _explains_ a lot." corrected Will.

As the rest of the lunch hall cleared, he caught Marian's eye, and gave her a fleeting thumbs up. She grinned. It had begun.

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As he waited for Marian outside the hall, Will wondered, not for the first time, what Robin and Allan were planning, and whether the whole school knew about it yet, as they probably would soon if Allan was involved.

Allan was a good friend, but an irrepressible chatterbox, who couldn't keep a secret for ten seconds if you paid him. They were supposed to be close, but Will knew he'd probably rather die than entrust any of his secrets to Allan. Maybe that was why he had never told him about his mother. He knew Allan would be hurt that he'd never told him, but maybe it was better that way.

He was torn from his musings as Marian left the hall after her lengthy lunch session with Guy, looking distinctly jaded and irritable. Her expression softened a little when she saw him.

"How was it?" he asked her. "That was," she concluded, "Probably the most arrogant, disgusting and pointless creature on this earth." "Is that Vaysey or Guy?" "Both! They're both so full of themselves, and stupid, and insensitive and...and..uncaring, I hate them both!" she spat, hating the way she was treated like a piece of meat, and not a person. Surely Robin was better than that?

"Robin's planning something." He told her. "I don't know what, but if Allan is involved, then we'll hear soon enough." She groaned, "Oh great, just what I need. Another arrogant fool trying to own me."

Each lost in their thoughts; they made their way up to the form room for the end of lunch.

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As they entered, the lights dimmed, and Marian groaned audibly as Robin approached her. The guy was so persistent! He clapped his hands dramatically, and Allan flicked through the music library on his phone and found a suitably cheesy love song, turned up to full volume.

Robin got down on one knee, taking her hand. It was all a show to him, she thought. Just another pathetic attempt to heighten his own reputation. Her exterior issued a calm, yet irritated demeanour, but her insides were screaming at the teenager for his arrogance and determination to treat her like a prize, rather than a person.

With every breath he took, he was insulting her, using her. Especially as he handed her yet another of his endless gifts. She felt humiliation colour her cheeks, and felt like screaming in frustration.

She handed the present back to him, fire burning within her. "Robin, please don't bother. Every time you do this, you insult me personally." To her surprise and disgust, he completely ignored her speaking, but continued, "Marian," he grinned, "My lady. Will you go out with me?"

The little calm left in her boiled over in fury as he ignored her. The fact that he was still mocking her was reason enough to strike him around the face with all the strength she could muster and run out.

The jeers and catcalls from spectators only made her run faster. His arrogance and total ignorance of her was so frustrating and unbearably selfish that she burst into tears on the step. She had tried so hard to love him, all these years. But they could never be together while his ego was bigger than his love for her.

There were footsteps behind her. Fearing Robin, his boundless ego and maybe a crowd of adoring followers, she hurriedly mopped her eyes, intent on telling him to get stuffed, or maybe hit him again, except harder, much harder.

But it was Will. He sat down gently beside her, "You okay?" The tears and the lump in her throat choked her, and it was all she could do to shake her head. Then sobs wracked her body again, and she broke down into tears.

He slipped an arm around her shoulders, and she buried her face in his shoulder, sobbing uncontrollably. She was shaking hard, clinging to him like a small child, like she had never been before. She felt smaller to him now, and younger than her usually calm, sensible and sisterly demeanour had allowed.

Eventually she calmed, and the shaking gradually stopped. She swallowed, feeling vaguely embarrassed, her head resting on his shoulder. "Sorry for going to pieces on you." She murmured. "Don't worry about it." "No, seriously, Will, you've got other things to worry about." "Marian, I don't mind. You're always there for me."

She smiled weakly, "I think I'd better go wash my face," she glanced in her mirror, "Yeah, I'm a wreck. And thanks." "It's okay. I'll see you later. I'm just gonna have a word with Robin." He squeezed her fingers, "Remember what you said earlier."

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- As he walked off, he almost regretted leaving her. She was in such a state.

He wondered what he'd say to Robin. He knew what he'd _like_to say to his friend, but he simply couldn't. But finding Robin was the more pressing problem at the moment.

Just then, Allan appeared around the corner, _and hopefully_, Will thought, _he'd know where Robin was_. Allan looked slightly concerned, which made Will remember than Allan was human, and did care. It also made him feel slightly guilty that he hadn't told Allan about his mother but he brushed the thought aside.

Allan rushed over, "Will, is Marian okay?" "Yeah she's alright. No thanks to you or Robin though." Will said bitterly. "Hey, it wasn't my idea; I just suggested a few things." "Yeah, you always do; Anyway Allan, have you seen Robin, I need a word." "He's on the top corridor, sulking."

"Hey, Will!" Allan yelled as he disappeared. "Yeah, what?" "You coming on the D of E expedition on Thursday?" "The what?" "The Duke of Edinburgh expedition thing we signed up for last year. It's on Thursday. You coming?"

Will swore under his breath, he'd completely forgotten about it, "Probably not." "Come on Will, you never go; anyway you put your name down." Allan pleaded. "Yeah but that was before- well never mind." Will cursed silently; he'd nearly told Allan what he'd kept from him for over six months. "Before what?" Allan looked confused. Will shook his head, "Nothing. Doesn't matter. I'll think about it."

He ran off, leaving a vaguely confused Allan staring after him.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------When he found him, Robin was sitting; true to Allan's word; sulking in the top corridor, legs sprawled out across the floor.

"Robin," he didn't know how to begin. Robin was an excellent leader; he was fair and consistent, but he had a big ego problem, and had trouble sensing other people's feelings.

"Robin, I need to talk to you about Marian." He looked up eagerly, "Has she said yes?" "No. That's what I wanted to talk to you about." "Go on." Robin gestured.

"You're gonna lose her if you keep up this stupid charade you and Allan have got on." Robin looked a little confused. "What am I doing?" "Robin, listen to me. Marian is different from all those other girls, who'll just simply fall at your feet. If you want her to care for you, then you're going the wrong way about it."

Robin rested his head on his knees, "What am I doing wrong? I mean, I've bought her presents; I've tried to be charming, I've-" "That's just it, Robin." Will interrupted, "You're trying to buy her, or else that's what it seems like. She's not a prize; she's a person. And by being arrogant, and showering her in gifts, you're making her feel cheap, like she's worth little to you. If you want her to care for you, you have to respect her." "What can I do? I mean, she won't even speak to me now. I've messed up big time."

"Are you going on the D of E expedition?" Will asked him. At the older boy's nod, he continued, "Well, when we get there, when we first set up camp, take her somewhere private; no presents, no gifts, no public displays.Just and you and her. Then apologise to her and tell her how you feel. She'll come round. It's you she wants, not your ego." With that, he got to his feet, turned and disappeared.

"Will!" Robin yelled as he vanished. The younger boy leant around the corner. "Yeah?" "Thanks." "Anytime." And then he was gone.

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Will had a lot to think about as he made his way home. For one thing, there was the Duke of Edinburgh expedition, in less than two days, something he hadn't expected, and was still unsure about. Would his mother be alright, if he left her for three days? What if her health suddenly deteriorated while he was away? What if...

He shook his head to clear the thoughts. Maybe he did need some space. He needed to get away from the stifling tension that choked him from the minute he woke up to the minute he fell asleep. He'd think about it, he told himself firmly. It wasn't practical or even probable.

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_That's it so far. xxx_


	4. Shivering

_Sorry its rather late but here we are. thanks for all your fantastic reviews. _

_R & R xxxx_

**Chapter 4**

So it was that he was standing, shivering, outside the school at what felt like three in the morning, with the rest of the twenty or so people who made up their D of E group, struggling with a rucksack. The bag itself weighed a ton, and it felt like he was carrying most of a tent.

And they'd all had the bad news that they were expected to walk over twenty miles in the next three days. The vast black storm-cloud overhead didn't look too promising either.

In truth, he hadn't actually listened to the huge lecture they had been given about rivers, or the landmarks they were supposed to be heading for, but then again, no-one else had either, so it was likely that they'd get very lost.

The coach was old, and smelt oddly like mothballs for some strange reason. It didn't look the most reliable of vehicles, so it was also probable that they wouldn't even get to their destination. Just sitting down produced an immense haze of dust and caused several ancient springs to creak and groan loudly. In fact, he was pretty sure that this was the reason their leader had managed to get hold of a coach at quite short notice, and for so little money. Therefore, it probably wasn't very safe at all, knowing Mr Haine's infatuation with saving money.

It was so decrepit that it didn't have seatbelts, and he sensed that some serious red tape was being breached by organising this expedition.

He slung his bag on the floor and sat down on a seat fairly near the back, where Robin and Allan would probably sit. The only downside was that Vaisey, Gisborne and their cronies were also on the expedition, and would most likely cause one hell of a lot of trouble. That was why Marian had wanted him to save a place for her, he realised; so she didn't have to sit by Guy or Vaisey, who treated her like a piece of meat.

Allan sauntered past and threw himself into the seat behind, deliberately ruffling the hair of the girl behind him, who scowled at him, having spent hours getting it perfect. Allan grinned at her, "Hey Amber, wanna sleep in my tent?"

She raised her eyebrows. "No."

"Aw come on."

"I said no, Allan, you sick git."

Allan pulled a face and turned back around, intent on ruffling Will's hair as well, who ducked away. He scowled, "Why is everyone so boring this morning?"

"Uh, Allan, it is about five in the morning in case you hadn't noticed. And I don't think Amber really wants to sleep with you, at any time of day."

Allan shrugged, "She'll come round."

Will rolled his eyes, twisting back around as Marian boarded the coach, looking around anxiously around for him, studiously ignoring Robin. She found him and darted over before anyone else could ask her to sit by them. He moved across for her to sit down, and she hunched down in her seat, as though someone was looking for her.

"Did Robin catch you again?" he asked curiously, confused at her behaviour.

"No…. it was Guy. He was trying to make me sit with him." Marian shuddered.

"I take it you said no, then."

"Yeah, but he didn't like it."

"Just ignore him; he's a waste of space."

"He's gonna come and find me, I know it. Or they'll get me later." She shivered.

"Do you want to sit by the window then, they're less likely to see you there." He offered.

"Please." They swapped places.

Will glanced down the aisle between the seats. Vaisey swaggered up the gangway, flanked by Guy and the rest of his troupe of gorillas. Guy looked angry, his face crimson; the blood vessels raised in his neck and face; jaw clenched. Will was suddenly aware of the height difference between them; Guy was at least half a foot taller than him, he knew from past confrontations, and he didn't fancy provoking the older boy into an argument, as he knew who'd win.

He gulped, and Marian shrank a little in her seat beside him. Guy stopped dead in front of them, glaring. If looks could kill, Will thought he'd be lying dead on the floor, seeing the venom contorted in his archenemy's face. He glowered back at Guy, matching the poison in his eyes, channelling all his hatred and anger at the boy into his glare.

Guy broke it first, blinking rapidly to clear his smarting eyes. His gaze slipped sideways, resting on Marian, who glared defiantly back. "Marian." He hissed, his voice dropping in surprise as he saw her.

"Guy." She answered in a monosyllable, barely acknowledging him.

"Come and sit with me." He told her.

"Guy, I've told you already, no."

"Marian, I'm not asking you, I'm telling you." All of a sudden, the gang flanking him seemed already larger, threatening and menacing.

"No! You don't own me. I don't have to do anything you tell me." Marian spat. "Don't you dare threaten me."

"You don't have any choice. Either come willingly or my gang will make you." Guy stepped forward, and his friends closed the semicircle around them.

This had gone on for long enough. Will stood up between them, glaring at Guy.

"She doesn't have to do anything she doesn't want to. And you can't make her. So back off."

Guy stepped forward, almost a head taller, trying to intimidate.

Will laughed, but inside he was shaking, terrified. "You're a coward Guy. You couldn't even face Marian alone without five of those morons to back you up. Face it."

The blood vessels in Guy's neck dilated, making him look alarmingly mad, veins pulsing, eyes bulging with anger. He grabbed the front of Will's t-shirt, breathing in his face. "Don't mock me." He growled, "Ever."

Will pulled free, "Back off Gisborne."

Guy glared at him, livid. He never moved until Mr Haine's voice floated up the coach, breaking up the animosity between the two, "Is everything okay up there boys?"

"Yeah, fine."

Guy slunk off angrily, sparing venomous look at Will and Marian as he disappeared.

Will breathed out, slumping back into his seat beside Marian, who smiled weakly at him, her gaze dropping to the floor. "You shouldn't have wound him up. He'll be after you now." She told him.

"He's just power crazy, that's all. He deserved to be insulted. He can't just threaten people and get away with it."

"I know, it's just I don't want you to get into trouble because of me."

"He needs to be shown that he can't do anything he wants."

She put a hand on his arm, "I know. I don't want you to get hurt, that's all."

"I'll be fine." He turned around to see Allan throwing scrunched up paper at Vaisey and his gang, with deadly aim.

"We're off." Marian whispered, as the bus screeched out of the driveway. He grinned, "We're off."


	5. Remembering & Losing

**Chapter 5**

The bus jolted its way shakily through the city, and out the other side. Allan leant over the seat to see where they were.

"So, Will, when are you planning on telling your folks that you're actually here?"

"Maybe Saturday. They won't notice."

"They won't notice if you're missing for two days? Wish my Mum and Dad were like that."

"I'm not there much; they'll just think I'm staying with a friend or something."

"You're lucky. My folks'd go mad."

Will considered telling him the truth for a second, but there was always some kind of reserve that stopped him. Some tiny thing inside him, that felt almost like mistrust. He hated lying to his friend all this time, but he knew it was necessary.

Allan slumped back in his seat, bored, and went back to trying to charm Amber in the seat behind. So far, she wasn't buying it.

Will twisted back again. Suddenly he felt incredibly tired. He knew it was the build up of having too little sleep for such a long time, but he always pushed it aside. If he let the tiredness catch up with him, he'd probably collapse.

He blinked, trying to fight the seeping warmth that his tired eyelids thrust upon him. His head and vision span as he desperately shook off the painful desire to sleep. His eyelids closed, momentarily, relishing the warmth, and the chance to rest, before he forced them open.

His head pounded angrily, aching. His vision blurred. The overwhelming need for sleep was intense. He couldn't go to sleep. He couldn't. He had to stay awake.

He rested his head on the cool bar on the seat in front, feeling sleep draining his strength, his fears and his exhaustion.

Wearily, he let the darkness take him, plummeting into the blackness of unconsciousness.

_He was six years old, nose level with the table, watching his mother make biscuits. She was smiling, auburn hair tossed carelessly over one shoulder, laughing gently at his futile attempts to make a lump of biscuit dough look like a dog, and managing a strangely shaped blob of mixture, flour everywhere – in his hair, on his clothes, on the floor and all over the cat, who didn't really seem to mind. _

_----_

_Then the scene changed. She was curled up on a bed, sobbing her heart out, like a child. _

_Now he was older, maybe eight, watching his mother crying. It frightened him. She wasn't supposed to cry. He didn't know what cancer was, or what it did, but if it upset his mum this much, then he hated it._

_----_

_Now he was ten, watching her leave to go to hospital, to get some kind of medicine. It made her sick and unhappy, but the doctors said it would help her stay alive._

_Her hair fell out, and that was horrible, and he didn't know why it fell out._

_He watched as his auntie Annie cut his mum's hair, to stop it falling out so much. Tears poured down her cheeks as piles of auburn hair gathered around her, like mounds of harvested crops. It was her hair, it had always been long, and it hurt her so much to cut it, even though it was necessary._

_He wanted to cry too, but he couldn't, he knew he had to be strong for her. While they weren't looking, he scooped up a handful of the severed hair and ran. _

_The lump in his throat was so painful, it was impossible to breathe or talk. He locked himself in the bathroom and curled up in the corner, fresh tears pouring down his cheeks. _

_The feel of her soft, silky hair on his palm brought back painful memories of his earlier childhood. The auburn strands tickled his fingers, and he clutched the fistful of hair to his chest, hunching over his knees as more tears flooded his eyes._

_Her hair was short and cropped, but it still fell out. Every morning, there were still more strands on the pillow, still more tears of anguish as she lost more and more hair._

_She cried so much now, and that was horrible too. She wasn't supposed to. She was supposed to be strong and capable. She was supposed to be his mum._

_The cancer was destroying her mentally, as well as physically, and he hated it._

_----_

_Now he was eleven, leaving for his first day of high school, dragging his feet as his father dropped him off, feeling abandoned. He didn't want to be there, didn't want to leave his mother alone at home, sick and lethargic. _

_He knew he'd hate it, and he did. He knew he didn't fit in; he'd withdrawn from society for so long that he didn't know how to and didn't care any more. _

_He absorbed himself in his work and avoided the rest of the school. He'd lost count of the number of times he'd been sent to the counsellor's office, lost count of the number of times a letter had been sent home by a concerned teacher or form tutor regarding his decision to isolate himself from the rest of the school, or the number of times he had intercepted the said letter and destroyed it before his parents read it._

_They didn't need anything else to worry about._

_He didn't want anyone to know about his mother. He didn't need their pity. He'd rather be lonely than tell anyone his secrets._

_----_

_The scene darkened once more, but this time he could taste the heavy dread in the air before he felt it. _

_He was thirteen again, it was his birthday and they'd taken his mother away to live in a care home, permanently. She wasn't getting any better, and needed specialist treatment, they said, but all he knew was that she wasn't coming back._

_He was perched on the end of her bed, as the carers inserted tubes and needles into her skin._

_She was thinner than ever, shrunken, like she was old and fragile, and his touch would make her crumble away._

_He watched helplessly, in horror, as she suddenly started getting thinner and smaller before his eyes, until she was no more than a skeleton. _

_He seized her wrist, terrified she'd disappear, but instead the limp body stiffened. He recoiled with a yell of disgust as her skin began to rot away in tendrils, followed by the muscles, wasting away into nothing. Now she was little more than a skeletal bone structure, her eyes, skin, muscle and organs had rotted away to dust._

_His eyes were locked on her, stuck like glue to the repulsive sight that met his eyes. The bones were shrinking, crumbling to dust. _

_She was tiny, little more than the size of a baby. The bones gave way with a sickening crunch, dissolving to nothingness._

_----_

_The scene changed again, fading into awareness. He was in a graveyard by himself, stood before a grave, lined with flowers piled so high it could have been a flower shop._

_He dropped to his knees, empty and numb as his finger-tips traced the copperplate writing on the marble tombstone, cold and smooth beneath his fingers, feeling nothing, and everything._

_An almighty crack shattered the deafening silence, reverberating through his very being. The tombstone and ground beneath it split asunder, wider and wider and wider to form a vast gaping chasm in the earth; a pathway to oblivion and death. _

_He lurched away from the edge, as the ground crumbled into the abyss._

_The wind accumulated as suddenly as the ground had formed a living rift in the earth, picking up to a terrifying pace, whipping him clawing at him savagely with invisible fingertips, sucking him towards the chasm, like a strong river undertow._

_It dragged him closer and closer to the edge, paralysed by fear. His fingers clawed desperately at the rocky edge, trying to find a handhold on the uneven surface._

_His heart expanded in his chest, swollen with fear and bitter anger as he was hurled into the chasm, falling endlessly downwards into the blackness, the wind roaring in his ears._

Will jerked awake, gasping for breath, shaking violently. Marian twisted around from where she had leant over the seat, talking to Amber, concern written across her face.

"Are you alright?" she sounded both scared and worried.

He nodded shakily, "Yeah, I think so."

The images of his mother, dead and rotting away before him were still vivid in his mind, and blinked to clear the visions.

"Are you sure?" Marian asked anxiously. She was pretty certain she knew what the dream had been about, very few other things scared him like that.

He nodded, "How long was I asleep?" he asked, to distract her.

"About half an hour. We're nearly there now."

He glanced out of the window, into the scarlet horizon as the sun continued to rise in a haze of crimson, orange and blazing yellow.

The soot-stained factories belching great plumes of steam into the sky, the damp grey tower-blocks lining the skyline, the constant, choking, busy motorway, were gone.

In their place were purple-black snow-capped mountains, draped in columns of smoky black storm clouds, cold, dark and wet.

The moors were razed and bare, devoid of life, plants and animals. The mountain sides were rocky, the grass rough and uncropped. A glassy, crystal clear river breached the valley, flowing over rocks, soil and grass. The valley was harsh, raw and untouched.

It was freedom.


	6. Walking

_hey. Thanks for all your reviews and continued support. Next chapter up now. I'll update again when i get about 16 or 17 reviews. hope this is okay, cos im a bit rusty. R&R xxx_

**Chapter 6**

The bus screeched to a halt by the side of the road, precariously overlooking a rocky outcrop. The brakes shuddered, and for a second everyone was wondering the same thing; would the coach stop in time, or plummet off the edge of the cliff?

Luckily, the mistakenly deemed 'safe' coach managed to pull off the manoeuvre, and stopped just at the margin of the outcrop.

Just ten minutes later, they were standing at the foot of the valley, completely alone. Mr Haines and the coach had disappeared. The other groups had dissipated entirely. And Allan had the map upside down. It didn't bode well.

"Did anyone actually listen to where on God's earth we are meant to be going?" Allan demanded. His words were met by the group shaking their heads as a whole.

"Well does anyone actually know where we are?"

Again his words were met by a joint head shaking.

Marian peered over the top of the map, "Allan, it's upside down. You've got south pointing north."

"Oh."

Amber leant over, "I think we're about here." She told him, pointing. "We passed a sign on the way up."

"That means we've got, like 20 miles to walk in three days!" he protested.

"Old news Allan. Some of us actually listened."

"I was listening!"

"If you did, you'd know where we were going."

"I do!"

"Well where are we going?"

"Um….There!" Allan stabbed the map excitedly.

"Allan, that's practically Liverpool!"

"Is not!"

"Is too!"

"Is not!"

"Shut up, the pair of you!" John interrupted, separating the two.

"Who made you the adult?" objected Allan.

"I did. Now stop bickering." John growled.

Allan shut up, noticing how much taller John was than him.

Robin snatched the map, looking at it more closely. "I think we'll need to set up camp near Howden Reservoir."

"Where?"

He held up the map, pointing, "Here."

"But that's eight miles away!" Allan moaned.

"We're not gonna get there if we don't. Come on."

Eventually they started off, the map the right way up now. And just as they did, the heavens opened, and rain erupted from the vast rain clouds above, profound and unending, saturating them to the bone.

---------------------------------------------------------

They trudged along across the increasingly soggy moor, getting more and more drenched for every second they stood beneath the constant eruption of water than poured from the sky like molten lava from a volcano.

"When I signed up for this," Allan grumbled, "I thought we'd be doing it in the summer, not in January."

"Quit moaning Allan," cut in Amber sharply.

"But I'm soaking!"

"So is everyone else."

"And cold!"

"Aren't we all?"

"And hungry."

"_Shut_ _up_ Allan!" she snapped. And then laughed as he managed to submerge his right foot in a foot deep puddle of mud. She laughed harder when Allan found he was completely stuck and couldn't get out. He floundered in the mud, trying not to overbalance, and nearly pulled her in as he grabbed her arm to steady himself.

It took all the effort of both her and Will to prise Allan and his boot from the mud, which made a horrible gurgling, sucking noise as they pulled him out, like putty relinquishing its hold on something. This was made harder by the fact that they were all giggling uncontrollably. And the fact that it was pouring with rain.

After a short while, they decided to take refuge on the hilltop, beneath the trees. The rain showed no signs of letting up, the rain clouds becoming more and more concentrated and darker above them, lashing the hillside with everything it had.

Alarmingly, the river was swelling; they could see it from the hilltop, not far above. It had risen steeply by a least two feet in the past couple of hours, and didn't appear to be stopping. And with all this rainfall, it was likely that it would keep on rising. Which could put them in a very sticky situation, especially if the valley started to flood.

To Robin's concern, as the group's self-proclaimed leader, despite not being the oldest, the wind was also starting to gather speed, howling through the trees and blasting the moors with its icy breath. Leaves whipped around their ankles, swirling out of control in the intense coil of air that twisted untouched through the bare countryside to gnaw at them with teeth of iron; chill, callous and bitter.

In the end, they were forced to move on. Lingering in the shelter of the trees was merely wasting time, and the quicker they could get to the reservoir at Howden, the safer they'd be, as the wind would lessen, due to the lower ground levels, and the rain would drain off into the reservoir for storage. It was also sheltered by a shelf of rock that overhung that area of the valley, and by the mass of trees that gathered around the huge body of water.

They staggered through the trees, slipping in the icy mud that slicked the slope like oil.

Will dragged behind, tired and feeling a little left out of the constant flowing conversation. The wind howled in his ears, deafening him, echoing and resounding in his skull. His eyes watered as the icy gust blasted his face, freezing his skin, blinding him. He couldn't feel his fingers, couldn't see much more than Allan in front of him.

A vast tree root protruded from the soil, and blinded, he tripped, falling down the slope and smacking his head on something hard. His last thought was to call out, to call for help, before the black mist descended over his brain and he drifted into unconsciousness.

And when he woke up, he was alone.


	7. Fighting & Losing

**Chapter 7:**

When he woke, he was shivering, face pressed against the sodden, semi-frozen grass. The rain still pelted him, icy and unrelenting. He saw nothing but blurred, double images for a while, before his vision focused and cleared, his head pounding from the impact.

He called out, in the desperate hope that he hadn't been unconscious for very long, but either the gang couldn't hear him above the intensity of the storm, or they were too far away to hear him. He could barely hear his own voice above the wind, let alone anyone else's.

He couldn't see to move, the wind stinging his eyes. He'd never find them in this. A fit of panic seized him; he was lost, without a map or compass, or any idea of where he was. This place was little more populated that Mount Everest and it was unlikely that anyone would find him. He was beyond lost.

Utter despair smothered him like a thick cloak. He was going to die out here, lost and alone. It was just a question of how. Starvation, Thirst, Exhaustion, Hypothermia and Drowning all seemed terribly likely possibilities. He bowed his head. Even if he couldn't survive this storm, he was still hopelessly lost.

He wondered whether the others knew he was missing yet. _Probably not,_ said an inner voice. Half the time, they didn't notice even when he was there. Sometimes, he felt as if he didn't exist. _In that case,_ he thought miserably, they might not realise he was missing until morning, when it was fully light. The thought depressed him further, and he shook his head to clear his thoughts.

He leant back against the tree, pulling himself into a sitting position, stiff and numb from the cold. He pulled the hood up over his head, the fleece itching his skin. But at least it was warm.

He reflected on everything that had happened, realising that he didn't really care any more. His life had barely begun, and now it could be ended forever. And the sad truth was that no-one would really miss him. Allan might briefly, he thought, but they were never really that close, although they were supposed to be best friends. Maybe Marian would as well, he knew that, but she had Robin now, or would have if Robin followed his instructions.

That was the thing, he thought sadly. He'd spent his life picking up the pieces and mending other people's lives. He had always supported people, tried to stick things back together when they went wrong. He'd only ever picked p the pieces, because he didn't know how to tackle the problems in his own life. Helping other people took his mind off his own pain, helped him to forget his own problems. It was easier that way. He could block everything else out.

He had spent his life healing other people's lives, relationships, problems, but his life, his problems; his emotions were still bundled up tight, bottled up in the centre of his very being, raw, untold and unrestrained. It wasn't that he regretted doing what he'd done, it was just, well, he wanted someone to understand him like Marian did.

And now his life was about to end. It wasn't fair, he thought bitterly. His own life was raw and undeveloped and empty. And it was nearly over. It was such a waste. Such a stupid waste.

---------------------------------------------------

He was curled up; waiting the storm out, face pressed against the cool, smooth bole of the tree, and had been for over an hour. The storm was still howling, unrelenting. The thunder echoed, horrifyingly loudly above, shattering every calmer moment. Soon his head and ears were ringing, so hard that he didn't recognise the scream when he first heard it.

The second time, the shrill, piercing scream echoed above even the thunder, and he was instantly alert. It was a human scream, raw and scared. Tired and frozen, he leapt to his feet, dragging his rucksack after him. He was lost and frozen, but it was likely that the other person on the end of the scream was in a much worse situation, so it was his responsibility to find out what was happening, as he hoped someone would do the same for him.

A fresh burst of energy seized him. He ran down the slope, leaving the forest, the rough cut path, towards the direction of the scream. And then, as reached the bottom of the slope, the breath was ripped from his lungs. In the last pale dregs of daylight, he could see the river; swollen to at least three times the size it had been earlier by the heavy, rapid rainfall that had and still scoured the moor lands.

His eyes scanned the horizon desperately, searching for the person who had screamed. Then he caught sight of a flash of movement within the vastly swollen river. His heart contracted in fear as, not twenty metres away, across the huge deluge of water; a girl struggled in the overpowering currents that threatened to suck her under. She fought the water desperately, but weakening fast. Soon, she could drown. There was no time to find help; if there was anyone to find.

So, without thinking, he did the only thing he could. He slung his pack, coat and sleeping bag at the top of the slope, and threw his fleece onto the pile. He didn't need anything weighing him down.

He hurried back down the slope, and, knowing it was the worst, but only thing he could do, he waded into the grey, eddying water, grimacing at the icy chill that bit at him, sinking into his bones like needles. He felt the currents suck at him, wanting him, but he fought them, trying to swim in the dark, foul water.

Will shivered, as the icy water became, if possible, even colder. Suddenly, the river bottom beneath him disappeared, leaving him stranded, out of his depth and now fighting for his own life. He struggled against the currents, trying to swim towards the girl, but being constantly sucked back, like a magnet by the strong undertows of the river.

Then, completely without warning, he was dragged under the water, without being able to draw breath. He wrestled the current, striving desperately to reach the surface. He fought to get air, feeling light-headed and dizzy. He couldn't breathe. He thrashed wildly, held tight in the vice-like grip of the river currents. The vast mass of water crushed his lungs, forcing more air out of his body. His lungs burnt like fire, almost collapsing inwards with the effort of staying afloat. His eyes blurred; his mind dull and confused from the lack of oxygen.

He was sinking slowly, as air emptied from his body, to be replaced by the life-sapping water. The soft, silky surface of river weed brushed his cheek. It was comfortable now, not slimy, exuding a strange warmth that seemed to encapsulate him.

Vaguely, his mind wondered how he could ever have thought the water cold. He didn't want to fight anymore. He was going to die here, but he couldn't care anymore. He wanted to go to sleep, and curl up in the gentle warmth of the river.

It was safe.


	8. Freezing

**Chapter 8:**

As he sank further into the murky water, eyes glazed and empty, his foot brushed against something hard. With his last inch of consciousness, he kicked out, in a last, desperate attempt to save himself, before he was claimed by the river. The force propelled him up; he couldn't suddenly see light above him, where there had been darkness. A last ounce of strength flowed through him, and he kicked his legs, and his face broke the surface of the water.

Gasping for air, he choked as the cold air stung his face, whipping his skin. The water was suddenly bitterly cold again, as savage and cruel as ever before, but he was glad of it. He fought the currents with renewed strength, desperately determined that he wouldn't die, wouldn't waste his life so early on. He swam as hard as he could towards the girl, as she flailed in the grey water.

Then, when he was just metres away, the currents sucked her under, and she disappeared without warning beneath the surface of the water. His body contracted in fear. He had to find her or they'd both drown. He took a deep breath, and dived back into the icy grey water, letting the currents take him. He could see almost nothing, in the huge volume of misty flood water, but he knew he had to.

He resurfaced, lungs burning, gasping for breath, before returning to the chill mass of fluid.

Suddenly, his outstretched fingers brushed against flesh, cold, hard and still. Seizing his opportunity, he reached out and curled his fingers around the arm that floated, almost detached from its owner in the foul water, dragging her towards the surface, and air.

The girl was quite heavy, though slim, and he struggled with her weight as she unconsciously dragged him back down. He kicked harder, desperately running out of oxygen, but at last, he reached the surface of the water.

His muscles screamed with the exertion; he had no more energy to give. The only thing left to give, the only thing keeping him going, keeping him fighting, was his determination alone. The determination that neither him nor the girl would die today.

His life had barely begun; he wasn't going to throw it all away now. He had no intention of giving up yet. His skin burned, he had long since long since lost all feeling in his hands and feet, he was just swimming desperately towards the bank, towards safety, trying to keep the girl's head out of the water.

It was near now, no more than six metres, he was nearly there, he told himself. It seemed endlessly repetitive, an endless torment, to test him until it killed him. He knew he couldn't keep it up for much longer; it was the only thing he was certain of.

Suddenly, he found his footing on the pebbly bottom. His knees went weak with relief, but he forced himself on, incase his legs gave way, drowning him, now that he was so near to freedom, as he knew he didn't have the strength to fight the currents any more.

Will lifted the girl onto the bank with the last of his strength, clinging to the side of the bank to keep himself upright. The cold had begun to set in, but he was too frozen and exhausted to shiver, or even care. Breathing heavily with the effort, he struggled out of the water and staggered onto the damp grass. His knees buckled and he pitched forward onto the ground, wiped out.

He felt the soft grass on his cheek, damp and pungent as he plummeted into unconsciousness.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Saffi remembered screaming, petrified, as she was swept from her father's arms by the raging floodwater, away from their tents, their belongings, everything, powerless to the vast torrents of fluid that swept her along, regardless of her terror. The first time she was sucked under, she was terrified, struggling in the grey water, unable to breathe, her mind numbing as she ran out of oxygen. Asphyxiation; that was the word her father, as a doctor, used to describe drowning, had taught her. Asphyxiation, lack of oxygen in the blood, as a result of drowning, strangulation or choking. She had no idea why she had remembered that, or why her mind was bringing up useless facts while she was drowning, and she didn't particularly care, unless it helped her escape from the invisible ectoplasmic arms that held her tight.

The second time, she was under for longer, convinced this time, the river would consume her utterly, as it knocked all the breath from her, pinning her down with unfathomable strength against the pebbled river floor, the small stones grazing her skin. She was released only by chance, as a rogue current threw her to the surface, coughing up the fluid that had been forced into her lungs.

She was swept further and further downstream, as the river grew larger and larger and more swollen as it sucked her along. It was no longer a question of if, but when she would drown. She could see no way of getting out of the river; there were no overhanging branches, no rocks, no chance of rescue. Only the increasingly strengthening currents and a mass of water that also seemed to be increasing in bulk.

The river slowed briefly, but with doubly strong undertows that were just as deadly, just as threatening. She remembered seeing a vague blur of colour on the bank, against the green-brown of the moors, but dismissed it; there was no-one who could help her now.

This thought was confirmed, as the currents returned to claim her, sucking her under for what felt like the last time, as she had little strength to fight the torrents of water that wanted her so badly.

This time, she did not bother to fight; sooner or later the river would take her and she would rather it be sooner than the other. Her last thought was of her father; his terrified face clouding her vision as she tumbled into the darkness that swallowed her.

And so it was that she was intensely surprised when she woke up in the open air beside the river, no longer drowning, but breathing. At first, it seemed to her that she had died, and her soul was in the process of departing to a place of eternal rest, but surely no afterlife would be so cold or wet, the logical part of her brain reasoned.

She opened her eyes gingerly, her eyelids swollen and sore, wincing as she forced the stiff, inflamed skin to move beyond its desire to be firmly closed, and remain that way until her head stopped pounding. The absence of water, the crushing, suffocating mass of fluid, was evident, yet her brain had not yet begun to comprehend her newfound ability to breathe again, causing her breaths to be ragged and uneven.

She stared at the sky, flat on her back, unable and unwilling to initiate movement, feeling the cold reverberate through her entire being. When she had caught her breath, and the world no longer felt upside down, she crawled onto her side and began to observe her surroundings more cautiously, anxious to establish why she was no longer drowning.

Her head swam briefly as she turned, causing a multitude of colours to blur her vision in a flood of dizziness, and she had to lie still for several moments to compensate for this.

When her sight cleared, she rolled over onto her side cautiously, to avoid _that _happening again. Saffi propped herself up on her elbows, wincing as the last bright dregs of the sunset caught her full on in the face, blinding her. The rays were left imprinted on her vision for several seconds as she blinked furiously to clear her sight once more.

There was a boy, no older than herself, sprawled out on the ground, not three metres away, unmoving. Panic seized in her throat suddenly before she realised he was breathing; it was shallow and almost non-existent, but he was breathing nonetheless.

Like her, he was similarly drenched, dark hair shrouding his eyes and a pale face. Nervously, she reached out a hand, gripping his shoulder; both to reassure him, and herself, to prove that she was alive and solid and not a spirit or ghost.

Her gesture provoked an almost immediate reaction; the boy's eyes flickered open briefly, contracting in what looked like a mixture of pain and relief, before shutting again, giving her a brief glimpse of wide, startlingly grey eyes that stared into her own, with an intensity that seemed to look into her soul. Saffi tore her gaze away, uncomfortable under his deep, intense gaze that had lasted no more than a second.

When they opened again, the intensity had faded to awareness that was rapidly deteriorating. The curiosity was replaced by a measured amount of pain, and his breathing was less steady. She squeezed his shoulder tighter.

"You okay?" she asked, concerned. It felt like years since she had spoken, and her voice came out as a dry croak, stinging her throat till it felt raw.

He nodded tiredly, the exhaustion reflected in his expressive eyes.

Now she had escaped the river, other problems sprouted in her mind, putting down roots and growing like seeds. Shelter, Food, Water and the Dying of Cold Issue rattled around in her head, like annoying flies that were trapped in a small space.

Survival was the main problem.

For that, they'd need a miracle.

-------------------------------------------------------------------

R&R xxx

Thanks for all your reviews. Sorry it took so long to write.


	9. Blushing

Heylo again. Thank-you to all my lovely reviewers especially to suzanne and lushliz who inspired me to keep writing. Please R&R. xx

**Chapter 9:**

A rush of sudden urgency, like the flow of adrenalin flooded through her veins, heat searing through her. They had to move. Fast. Before the storm returned.

She gripped the boy's shoulder again, only harder. "We need to move. The storm's coming back again." She whispered, unsure as to why she was whispering.

The grey eyes flickered open again, slowly comprehending her words, in a way she found unnerving, staring right into her. She turned away quickly, unwilling to expose herself to the penetrating gaze that bored into her, slicing easily through flesh and mental barriers to read her thoughts.

--

Will had woken up; feeling like someone had kicked a cloud of dust in his face, his eyes burning, to see the girl from the river bent over him, eyes wide. Then she was saying something, but he couldn't hear. The whole world seemed far away and distant, like an echo of the cold, storm-foreboding evening that enveloped the sky-line like a blanket of mist. Everything seemed shrouded in a thick, treacly atmosphere that muffled sound, blurred vision and caused his limited awareness of being conscious to seep back into oblivion.

He struggled fervently with the desire to slip back into the warm blanket of oblivion, knowing that a storm was coming, but wanting to sleep, over all things.

Gradually, everything began to clear; the numb sense of drowning in syrup slowly fading. His eyes unclouded as awareness returned, and he stared up into the face of the girl from the river.

Voices surged through his mind like the torrents of water that swelled in the river.

"We need to move……storm's coming back."

He twisted over, stretching out stiff muscles. He summoned the last reserves of his strength, pulling himself into a sitting position. The girl was still beside him, steadying him.

"Can you walk?" she murmured

He nodded stiffly, feeling his muscles protest strongly from overuse. He staggered to his feet, feeling his aching muscles scream out, burning like acid on his flesh.

He took a moment to observe the girl from the river, intense eyes seeing deep brown eyes, and long, chocolate brown hair, still damp from the water, flowing like silk. She was beautiful. Perfect.

She blushed under his intense gaze, embarrassed at being caught staring at him.

Tearing his eyes away from her face, he took the lead, stumbling stiffly up the incline, wincing as his aching muscles were stretched farther than they would willingly go after the intense exercise he had exerted on them.

Pausing to catch his breath, he turned to wait for the girl as she climbed the hill after him.

"There's a dip in the middle of the woodland – up there." he pointed, grabbing her hand to pull her over the narrow ridge. For a moment, his brain marvelled at the two perfect skin contrasts; one hand a beautiful creamy chocolate brown, the other pale, almost milk white but tinged with a vague shade of cream.

He quickly dropped her hand, not wanting to be caught staring. Bending taut muscles, he retrieved his rucksack and fleece and hurried towards the direction he had indicated, blushing as he did so.

--

Saffi stared after him, still partly dazed. She could still feel his hand in hers, holding on tight; dependable, stable. She swallowed, pulling herself together, and followed slowly in the direction he had pointed, feeling slightly detached and dizzy at the thought of his touch.

She had to pull herself together. Thirteen years without ever falling in love and now she was going all soft over a perfect stranger. He probably didn't even like her anyway; and she told herself she didn't care, but there was one tiny corner of her brain that was laughing at her futile attempts to kid herself.

_Admit it, you like him_.

_I don't. _

_Do. _The voices in her mind had started ganging up on her for reasons she couldn't quite understand.

_Don't_

_Do_

_Don't – and why am I having an argument with my brain anyway?_

_Because you know it's right?_

_Shut up!_

_So you do like him! I was right. _The voices in her mind sounded incredibly smug.

_I do not! Well maybe a bit. Platonically. And that's all._

_Yeah, right. Quit the jargon – you won't impress him that way. Platonically? What the?_

_I am not trying to impress him!_

She stamped her foot in frustration, before realising that it probably wasn't a good idea – because having a mental argument with one's brain was the first bridge to madness and that the argument she was having did not even involve another person – and three, that the voices in her mind were figments of her own imagination and therefore couldn't have any valid arguments because it was her mind.

She stopped thinking abruptly as she realised once more that having a debate in one's head was not only a waste of time, but she was getting sidetracked, talking to herself internally.

"Coming?" Will looked back through the trees to see the girl a way behind.

"Yes." She blushed again – this was becoming quite a habit now - deliberately choosing not to tell him that she had been having an argument about him. _Shut up brain!_

She ran the rest of the way, ignoring her legs' protests that she was going too fast for their liking.

--


	10. Sleeping

You wouldnt believe how long it took me to write this chapter - I had so little inspiration that I've been working on it since march, so apologies if its not anything fantanstic.

Thank-you to all my lovely reviewers.

Please R&R . xxx

**Chapter 10:**

"So how did you come to be on the moors?" she asked, feeling the need to abridge the awkward silence that had dispersed after the fire had been lit.

He looked at her, and subconsciously, she found herself dreamily falling in love with the way the flames lit up his face, the way he smiled, the way he….now was a good time to stop day-dreaming.

Will looked up across the gold-red flames, from where he had been staring into the embers, embarrassed and unwilling to break the quiet that had come between them.

"I'm…I was here with my friends on a school expedition thing and I kinda got lost in the storm. You?"

"I was here with my dad, camping – he likes the peace and quiet. It was too quiet for me, so I went down by the river, and before I knew it, I was cut off. My dad tried to save me, but the river was too strong. That's all there is to it really."

She stopped abruptly, painfully aware that she was babbling.

The raw silence between them grew, smothering, painful and incredibly awkward until she felt she had to say something, or risk screaming. She hated silence.

Saffi stood up abruptly, wiping leaf mould and bark from her jeans and mumbled something about finding more firewood, leaving Will alone, watching the tongues of flame rippling in the cold night air.

Now he was alone, there was nothing to take his mind off the biting cold that had soaked through him, and still remained even now he was dry. The fire did little to assuage the lost heat.

He shivered violently, huddling closer to the fire. Every inch of him was icy, cold rippling through him like a heartbeat; a pulsing coldness that tore through his body. His hands had darkened, fading to a grainy purple as the cold became more intense.

He could no longer feel his feet. What alarmed him more was that the cold was making him feel drowsy and almost warm, exhaustion seeping through every cell of his body, dragging him down and down into the depths of sleep.

"Will!" Saffi clamped a hand on his shoulder, forcing him back to consciousness. His skin was like ice, maybe colder. A burst of fresh fear washed through her veins as she shook his shoulder again. To her relief, he blearily opened his eyes.

"Will. You need to stay awake okay? Otherwise you might not wake up."

He nodded stiffly, his body frozen by the cold.

"Give me your hands." She told him gently.

Her skin was warm to the touch as she wrapped her caramel hands over his, trying to transfer some heat to the icy blue skin. The action sent a shiver vibrating down his spine. His mind lingered, semi-consciously on their hands, concentrating fiercely as it fought to stay awake.

She rubbed his hands together, sending pain shooting up his wrists, jerking him back awake. He grimaced as a burning sensation prickled along his fingers and into his hands, stinging his skin.

"Did that hurt?"

He nodded.

"Good."

"Good?!" he spluttered, "It hurt!"

"Pain is feeling." She reminded him. "No feeling indicates frostbite."

"Try and stay awake." She reprimanded him softly, scrambling to her feet.

Turning away, Saffi allowed her racing heart to calm, under the pretence of stoking the long golden flames.

That had scared her. He'd looked so still. He'd almost gone beyond. If he had fallen asleep, he probably wouldn't have woken up again.

If she hadn't returned at that exact moment... she didn't want to imagine what might have happened.

And she couldn't tell him the real reason she was terrified for him. She couldn't tell him that she'd just realised she was madly in love with him. She couldn't tell him just how scared she had just been.

Instead, she allowed the pretence of composure to disguise her desperate emotions and twisted back to sit beside him, wishing that she could just damn the consequences and throw her arms around him.

"Are there any blankets in your bag?" she asked.

"One blanket and a sleeping bag. You have the sleeping-bag and I'll have the blanket."

She shook her head. "You have no idea how close you just came to catching hypothermia. It'll be better to sleep together." She cringed at the coarse use of language, colour flooding her cheeks in embarrassment. "I mean, for body heat. Then neither of us will freeze." She finished quickly.

"Okay." Ducking his head, Will allowed himself a small smile, wondering whether there would ever be any real possibility of her sharing his feelings for her.

It was unlikely, he knew, but just maybe, if he hoped or prayed hard enough, someone would hear him.

Spreading out the sleeping bag on the ground, Saffi felt the earth clamouring to swallow her up, desperately hoping she hadn't ruined whatever chances they might have had by sounding so keen.

She placed a few more stones around the fire, waiting until he'd lain down on his half of the make-shift bed, before curling up beside him, just a few inches apart.

She tugged the blanket over them both, shifting a fraction of an inch closer to him as she did so.

She felt him relax next to her, sensing his body twisting slightly towards her.

As warmth and happiness washed over her, she allowed herself to fall into a deep dreamless sleep.


	11. Loving

**Hey, its back! And I've got plenty more chapters to come. Maybe I'll update when I've got, say 40 reviews, that's not too demanding, as I already have 34.**

**Please R & R my lovely people - oh and can anyone think of a title for this fic - I'm a bit stuck**

**Thankees xx**

**Chapter 11:**

Saffi woke up, warmth and contentment seeping through her. She opened her eyes slowly, jumping as she realised what her limbs had unintentionally done in her sleep.

Face colouring with embarrassment, she realised that her hand was tightly coiled around Will's, her body curled up against him. Furthermore, she realised with horror that her face was buried in his shoulder.

She shifted slightly, trying not to disturb him by making any sudden movement. She really liked him, and this was just the perfect way to scare him off.

She froze as she noticed that his eyes were open, watching her interestedly. He had minded in the slightest that she'd curled up against him.

He burst out in helpless laughter as she tried to untangle herself, mortified by what she done. She flushed a deeper shade of puce.

"I'm sorry." She mumbled awkwardly.

"Don't worry, I don't mind. It just surprised me." Will realised he'd frightened her, and desperately didn't want to scare her off.

Now for it. He had to tell her. Or risk losing her forever. There'd be no going back if something went wrong, and it'd be awkward until someone finally came to find her.

He cleared his throat. "The thing is…" he began, just as Saffi said, "I need to tell you something…"

They both laughed shyly. "You're not possibly going say the same thing as I was, were you?" he asked.

"Probably."

"I just wanted to say, hear me out, I really like you, and I mean, if you don't feel the same way, then-"

She put a finger on his lips, looking a little surprised at herself. "That's exactly what I was about to say."

"Really?"

"Really."

His heart somersaulted in excitement, jumping into his throat. It was just too good to be true. Maybe she was genuine. Did she really like him as well? He couldn't quite take it all in.

"Do you want to get up yet?" he asked.

She shrugged. "Nah, let's leave it a bit longer." _Maybe a lot longer_ she thought hopefully.

"Tell me about you then."

"Everything?"

"Everything."

--

"I'm hungry." She complained a little while later, as her stomach complained vehemently.

Strangely enough, she felt completely at ease around Will, and ecstatically relieved that he shared her feelings.

"Well let's have a little look at the stocks." Will grinned. "Um…its Pot Noodles, Pot Noodles or….umm, let me see……Pot Noodles."

He lined up the packets on the rock.

"It's a bit early for savoury stuff." She grumbled. "Especially Pot Noodle."

"I thought you were hungry." He teased.

"I was. And then I saw those. And now I'm not."

"Let's skip breakfast." He grinned.

She laughed, staring at the brightly colored array of Pot Noodles. "Yeah, I don't really fancy those."

"Race you to the river." She challenged.

"You're on."

Grabbing her round the waist, he threw her into a bracken bush and sprinted off down the slope.

She spluttered indignantly and clambered to her feet, trying to retain a shred of her dignity. She raced after him, running deliberately at him as he stood, smirking triumphantly on the little cove by the river, sending him pitching into the cool water.

He grabbed her wrist as he tumbled, dragging her in with him, making her squeak as the cold water enveloped her.

"That's Cold!"

"You pushed me in!"

"You deserved it!" she splashed a fountain of water at him, ducking as he sent a wave of cold water droplets at her, and inadvertedly submerged herself in the icy water.

Shivering slightly, she clambered out of the water to dry in the sun, Will clambering out after her, still grinning.

"I still won."

"Well, you were first in the river anyway." She smirked.

He settled down on the soft moss, staring out over the river, letting the sun's warmth soak into him to dry his clothes.

She lay down next to him, feeling his warmth through the damp clothes.

"Urgh, you're all wet. You're not getting a hug like that." He teased.

"Tough." She nestled up against him, feeling the steady warmth evaporate the dampness.

And once more came that wonderful safe feeling that only materialized when she was with him.

Will stretched out in the sun, wrapping one arm around Saffi, feeling her relax against him, feeling the balmy, warm sun bake his skin, feeling like a lizard basking in the heat.

_This is the real meaning of summer._ _It's not English, but this is summer._

In that moment, he felt at peace with everything in the world, seeping into the atoms of every conscious thing in the world, scattered and free, joined with Saffi, united in their love.

He could feel an irrepressible sense of happiness rippling through every inch of him, through the contact between their skin, through the peace and hope created in their love for each other.

It was a peace his soul had never experienced, battered and torn as it was, finally having the chance to heal in this blissful, idyllic heaven that had emerged from his torment.

Saffi had no idea how long they'd been lying there, the long tendrils of almost-grass tickling her skin gently, feeling the smooth, warm touch of her skin on Will's. It was perfect; they were, the world was and everything around them was perfect, just for them.

It must have been hours, well past midday when she heard a faint noise in the background, disturbing the perfect quiet of their perfect haven, a motor, a car.

It was a sound she'd waited so long to hear.

It meant rescue, safety.

It meant that her dad had come to find her.

But maybe she didn't want to be rescued, not anymore.

She was happy in her perfect little world, even if it only lasted for a few hours, she could pray for it to last a little longer.

The drone of a car engine, which once would have sounded like rescue, like freedom; sounded like a death sentence, the knelling of a bell signifying her execution.

It meant she and Will would be separated, maybe forever.


	12. Loving & Losing

**Chapter 12:**

She nudged Will gently as his head turned in the direction of the noise.

"It's sounds like my dad's car."

"Well let's go and surprise him. He'll be desperate to find you. You went missing in a river – for all he knows, you could be dead."

She sighed, knowing he was right, and although she badly wanted to see her dad, the fear of losing Will overrode even that basic instinct.

"You won't forget me, will you?" she asked, suddenly terrified.

"Never, I promise."

She grabbed his hand, squeezing it tight. "I love you."

He smiled at her. "I love you too."

--

"Dad!" Saffi was up and running full pelt towards the figure by the car.

As he darted after her, the figure grew closer and clearer, revealing a middle-aged man with Saffi's eyes, and the same shaped face, who flung his arms around his daughter in delight, his desperate eyes filling with emotion and relief.

"Saffi!"

By the time he reached her, Saffi was dragging her dad by the hand towards him.

She gestured towards him smiling. "This is Will."

Her Dad smiled at him, respect and gratefulness evident in his eyes. He reached out to shake Will's hand.

"Thank-you, for everything you've done for my daughter."

"_Dad_." Saffi looked embarrassed by her dad's formality. He smiled at her and ruffled her hair.

"Are you ready to go?" he asked gently.

"To go?" Saffi's face fell in confusion.

He nodded. "You can't stay here forever."

"Can't we just stay for a few more days?" she pleaded.

"I'm afraid not. I've got to get back to work."

Saffi's dad climbed into the car, allowing them a few final moments of privacy.

"This is it then." She murmured. "I knew – I hoped it would never have to end."

"Everything ends sometime or other. Even the best things."

"I don't want it to end." She swallowed as her heart expanded, beating a tattoo on her chest, aching and swollen in its desperation.

Will wrapped his arms around her tightly, and for a few brief seconds, the world stopped spinning as they clung together, neither wanting to let go and finish what they'd started.

When he finally let go, there were tears streaking down Saffi cheeks. He knew the same desolation, the same ripped-apart emotion was reflected in his own face.

Saffi brushed the tears away wildly, letting Will take her hand, and in that instant, impulsively, she leant forward and kissed him on the lips.

Fireworks exploded in her head, exciting every atom of her being, sending bliss spiralling through her skull. Her mind melted and was re-made before her eyes, clearer, purer, fused with part of him.

It was a moment that lasted seconds, but laid low a life age of the earth, time stopping in its entirety. The world stopped revolving, the birds stopped singing, the breeze failed, the river stopped flowing, every heartbeat in the world stopped, pulsing around them for a few seconds.

Then it was over, and she was staring into his eyes.

And she had to go.

She pressed a little piece of paper into his hands and clambered into the car.

The car sped off into the distance, leaving him staring forlornly as it grew smaller and smaller.

His whole being felt numb. He was torn apart, maybe never to be re-made. Maybe he would never feel whole again.

He glanced down at the paper she had pressed into his hands.

A number stared back at him from the paper. Eleven digits. Her phone number.

He smiled slightly. Maybe he hadn't lost her forever.


	13. Talking

**Hello again my lovelies. I re-read this chapter and had a shock! I practically had to change the rating for the last bit at the last minute. (oops)**

**Here's the next couple of chapters. If anyone can think of a name for this fic, that'd be great, but otherwise, please R&R. xxx**

**Chapter 13:**

As he stared at the dust trail gradually settling, the car faded further and further into the distance, blending with the horizon, until it was no longer visible, and any sign that he had ever met or known or loved Saffi was gone with the cloud of dust.

_Back to reality_ he thought sadly, as he watched her disappear into nothingness.

Provided he could find the others again.

He didn't have a map, or a compass, or any navigation equipment. All he had was a vague idea of which direction they were aiming for, and a gradually dwindling supply of Pot Noodles.

He headed back in the direction he'd came, to pick up the trail that had left him behind. He traipsed back up the incline, stumbling miserably through the tangled undergrowth, tripping on roots and nettles and thorns and all manner of unpleasant plants that had taken root there.

He stood overlooking the river and stared back at the campsite he'd shared for just one night, with someone he might never see again, but loved with all his heart and strength and soul.

She might forget him, but he never would.

He stared at the tree where she'd sat last night, the firelight illuminating her face, laughing. He could still see her there, a faded, but beautiful memory of everything they'd done.

The river sparkled in the clear sunlight, his reflection staring back at him emptily, missing her, wondering if he'd ever see her again.

He sighed, raking a hand through his hair. It was over, and now, he had to return to normality, namely, saving himself from dying alone and miserable in the middle of the moors.

He reached the top of the hill, gazing down upon the valley, anxiously scanning the hills and green planes for any sign of the others.

Nothing.

And yet…that tree looked vaguely familiar. He squinted. His heart leapt. He recognised that tree, and the hill behind it. This must have been where he'd become separated from the others in the storm.

With renewed vigour, but a heavy heart, he sprinted down the other side of the bank, narrowly missing being decapitated by the low branch of an oak tree as he ducked beneath it, slipping on the mud-slicked ground.

Following the clear trail of still damp, churned up muddy ground, he trekked across the soggy marshlands, searching the sparse landscape for any sign of the gang.

--

It was past dusk by the time he reached the cluster of trees on the horizon. The ground was less damp and harder, making it more difficult to track his friends.

Suddenly, a glimmer of light caught his eye, pulsating yellow brightness from the nearest hilltop. People. If it wasn't his friends, then it was some manner of humanity, and it could get him out of this lonely wasteland.

Providing they weren't also lost, of course.

That would just be unhelpful.

And unlucky.

Hearing voices, he sped up the hill, weariness forgotten, relieved as he recognised the voices he had been searching for. He let out a sigh of relief. He wasn't doomed to starve to death, lost in the middle of these godforsaken moors, with no idea where he was.

With a fresh spur of energy, he raced forward, ignoring his legs' poignant protest to slow down. His excitement flooded his brain, sending adrenalin rippling through his nerves, his spine, every inch of his skin, burning with a fire that seemed to consume him.

He reached the edge of a leafy clearing and took a peep through the branches. They were all there. Marian, her arm wrapped around Robin – he must have asked her; Allan playing cards with Much, who was losing badly; John, who was watching the scene thoughtfully; and Amber, who sat a little way off, staring into space, something tucked in her lap.

He trod backwards, tripped over a stump and fell face first into the clearing, landing on his knees in the dry earth.

"Will?"

As soon as he had reached his feet, he was bowled over as a flurry of dark hair and arms threw itself at him, nearly setting fire to both of them as it sprinted across the fire.

He grinned as Marian threw her arms around him, hugging her back with one arm, waving at the others with his right.

The clearing roared with sudden noise as he was enveloped by people, like a cloud of smoke drifting thickly around him.

He fought his way through the throng, ducking under the occasional arm and escaped to the outer edge of the circle around the fire.

Amber grinned at him from where she sat, slightly isolated from the rest of the group, in a corner reading; and he waded through the gaggle of excited people to find her, trying to seek a small respite from the eager group.

He perched next to her on a mossy rock and peered into her lap at the book she was reading. It was small and square, filled with a neat, delicate, familiar script.

"What're you reading?" he asked, glancing at the pages with interest. "Diary?"

She shook her head.

"Did you write this?"

She nodded.

"Are you going to talk to me or have you decided to be mute tonight?"

She smiled conspiratorially. "Yes, I did write it. It's a story."

"Can I read it?"

"It's not finished yet."

"Can I read it anyway?"

"Is this an interrogation? Everything you've asked me has been a question."

He laughed. "Please?"

"Yes. Don't show the others though." She handed him the small black book.

"I won't, promise."

But before he could open it, Allan appeared from nowhere and he hastily concealed it in his pocket.

Allan slumped on a stump next to Amber, slipped an arm around her and beamed at him.

"Have you met the new Mrs A Dale, then?"

Briefly startled, Will glanced around wildly, his gaze settling on Amber. He grinned.

"You finally said yes, then?"

She smiled, heat colouring her cheeks. "Last night."

"I didn't think you'd ever give in."

"If he kept asking _you_ every ten seconds and giving you puppy dog eyes, you would've given in too, eventually. I was tired."

"Nah, you love me really." Allan grinned, ruffling her hair.

"Allan, if you do that again, I will make you infertile for life." She warned. Will laughed. She hadn't lost her fire.

Allan withdrew his hand rapidly and grinned sheepishly at her. "I couldn't help myself." He protested.

"So what actually happened to you last night, mate?" he asked Will.

Will felt the attention of everyone in the clearing swivel to him suddenly. He couldn't bring himself to go through explaining the whole misadventure to the group, and he had no intention of indulging what had gone on with him and Saffi.

He shrugged. "I got lost in the storm and fell down the hill. I couldn't find you guys so I decided to wait till morning. I slept in the hollow and then tracked you to here this morning. Nothing exciting happened really." He lied.

He heard a murmur of disappointment shudder through the group, along with a sigh of relief.

Amber gave him a look. He had no idea what it meant. It was just a look. It could've said _I don't believe you_, or it could've read _Why are you lying to them?_

It confused him slightly. How did she know he was lying. Was it that obvious?

Everyone else seemed to have bought it. They'd quickly lost interest in his misadventure and had now moved on to Robin and Marian's relationship.

Robin was the first one to make a move. "Alright guys, I think we should get some sleep now. We've still gotta walk a fair distance in the morning."

A ripple of murmurs swept through the group like an echo, and gradually people began to dissipate into their tents. Robin and Marian in one, Allan had trudged off to see to his and Amber's tent, and Will was left sitting on the rock with Amber, staring at the little book.

"You know, I kinda expected a bigger welcome off you." He teased.

"I knew you'd come back."

"How?"

"I just did. They all accused me of being selfish and hard-hearted, cos I wasn't going out of my mind with worry like the rest of them, and I told them that you were coming back for definite."

She lowered her voice. "Why didn't you tell them the truth about what happened?"

Will shifted uncomfortably. "How did you know I was lying?" he asked, perplexed.

"You could see it in your eyes." She informed him. "So what actually happened?" she asked sharply, her grey eyes grazing his as she searched for an answer.

He sighed. "Can I tell you in the morning? Otherwise it'd take me all night to explain."

She nodded.

"My love…" called Allan in a terribly posh accent coined from a contraband of dated Victorian television dramas. "Your marital bed awaits."

"There are a lot of things awaiting you, Allan A Dale, and one of them is a smack around the head, if you keep on." She retorted.

"Aww come on. Give me a break. We're together now, aren't we?"

"Be that as it may, I am still not sleeping with you. I think people might notice if I suddenly became pregnant, wouldn't you?"

"Maybe…"

Amber rolled her eyes, and walked off in the direction of their tent, waving goodbye at Will, who found himself laughing uncontrollably at the pair of them.

He could still hear them from his own tent, muttering. He pulled on the book under the pale light and began to read.

--

"I know its hard for you Allan, but get a grip!"

"On what?" Allan asked mischievously, reaching towards her.

She slapped his hands away. "Not me."

He pulled a face. "Grumpy."

"Sex maniac"

She clambered into her sleeping bag.

"Care to share?" Allan offered.

"No." she answered flatly, poking him in the ribs. He poked her back.

She poked him harder.

And in seconds, a poking fight had broken out in the tent.

Wrestling Allan to the ground, Amber sat on his chest, straddling his arms with her knees to keep him still. He grinned up at her.

"I thought you said……"

"I'm not sleeping with you." She interrupted.

"But you're sitting on me."

"Then stop poking me."

"I can't breathe." He protested.

"Then stop making sexual references."

"I will." He gasped.

"Promise?"

"Promise promise promise." He wheezed.

She rolled off him.

"Whew!" he breathed "If I'd known you were that eager, I would've – Ow!"

"Remember your promise?"

"I had my fingers crossed." He grinned.

She rolled her eyes. "Can I get some sleep now?"

"Sure darlin'."

She relaxed, generously allowing Allan to slip an arm around her shoulders. He could have some freedom, after all.

She rested her head on his shoulder, and unconsciously, he drew closer to her, soaking in her warmth.

She giggled quietly as his hair tickled her cheek and kissed the tip of his nose.

Spurred on by her small display of affection, Allan kissed her ear, gradually making his way across her face with experienced gentleness and care.

He reached her lips, expecting her to pull away, or protest, but to his surprise and delight, she wrapped her arms around his neck, and deepened the kiss, gradually growing more intense.

Enamoured, he eased his T-shirt up a little, but she caught his hand.

"We can't." she whispered regretfully.

Sighing, he rested his head in the hollow of her neck, her hair tickling his skin, tantalisingly close, but just out of reach.

She tangled her fingers in his hair and curled up against him, relishing the warm contact between their skin.

Amber succumbed to the warm drowsiness that enveloped her, drawing him into a peaceful dreamless sleep.


	14. Falling & Losing

**Chapter 14:**

It was just light when Amber awoke, white shafts of sunlight piercing her eyelids like needles, pinpricks of the sun's glitter resonating on her eyeballs and leaving shadows firmly imprinted on her retinas.

With Allan still asleep and snoring slightly beside her, she slipped from her tent as quietly as possible. The sunrise was blinding and it took her several more seconds to focus her eyes on the camp.

Marian and Robin jumped startled from the furthest corner of the camp, where they had been doing something she really didn't want to have seen. _I am now scarred for life_ she thought, as the couple glared swiftly at her across the fire.

Pre-Marian Robin wouldn't have glared at her. He'd let her into the gang.

She had no idea why Marian didn't like her, although she had a shrewd guess. Couldn't she just let personal feuds be what they were and stop trying to poison other peoples' minds? It wasn't her fault, after all.

"Go and get some water Amber." Marian voice was bitter and irritated. A tinge of colour clouded the normally shameless cheeks.

"How about please?" She returned, her voice a harsh whisper, with no trace of emotion.

"Oh for…Just go and get it will you! Why do you have to be so difficult? And you wonder why people ignore you…"

She'd hit a raw nerve.

Amber grabbed the two large containers and stalked off, face a mask of ice. Marian scowled at her retreating back, face hastily remaining its composure as Will emerged from his tent, hair dishevelled and crumpled by sleep.

He stared at Marian briefly, eyes boring into her, trying to read an answer, unnerving her.

"Where did Amber go?" he asked inquisitively.

The voices he'd heard had been angry and bitter and hurt, and he'd been left in no doubt as to who was arguing.

"Gone to get water." She shrugged casually.

"Why were you arguing?"

"You know what she's like. So difficult."

"She sounded upset."

"She's always upset." Marian rolled her eyes irritably. "Is there ever a day when we don't have to listen to one of her little dramas?"

"She's alright." He defended, surprising himself. He'd never argued with Marian before – she was his best friend and somehow it seemed wrong. But for the life of him, he couldn't understand her intolerable dislike of Amber. Yes, she could be a little strange at times, but she was unique, and quirky and kind and made him laugh. Most of year nine had predicted that he and Marian would end up going out, but he knew that if he hadn't found Saffi, Amber would've been his first choice, not Marian.

"I'm going for a walk." He informed her.

"You're going to find her, aren't you?"

"And……?"

Marian switched from exasperated and annoyed to his best friend again. "I haven't seen you Will. You disappeared and made me really worried, and now you're going off again."

_Here we go on the guilt trip, _Will mused. "I'm just going to help her get the water. Those things are heavy – maybe you haven't carried them before."

Marian sighed, making him feel a little guilty for some reason he couldn't quite understand. "Will…"

_You won't even miss me for a second, _he thought,_ the moment I leave, you two'll be at it again, like there's no tomorrow. _

Outwardly, he said, "I'll just be a few minutes. I'll be back before you know it."

Marian's face pleaded with him, but he turned on his heel and left her, for the first time in their friendship. It was the first time they'd ever disagreed, and he was determined to prove that he wouldn't let himself be walked over.

He walked out of the clearing, following the mossy trail down the slope to the stream, slipping on the dewy lichen that clung to the bare rocks.

Seeing an easier path to the river, he began to climb down the rocky outcrop, scanning for any sign of Amber. The water containers were there, perched on a gnarled tree root, already full; but she was nowhere in sight.

The rocks were slippery; slimy and damp from the spray of the small waterfall, making climbing awkward and difficult. The spray splashed on his face and hands, giving him less grip.

He could feel himself beginning to slide, loosing his footing on the rock.

Don't look down. Don't look…

_Oh_

It was a ten metre drop, and it seemed he hadn't judged the slant of the rock face, which seemed to jut underneath itself.

His feet began to slide. He seized hold of the nearest root growing from the rock, panic swallowing him. To escape drowning, only to be killed by falling from a rock face.

_Help. Help. Help._ His mind screamed, blood roaring, lusting through his head, but his lips were shut. No sound escaped his mouth, no scream, no cry for help, not the whimper of fear that fought to pass his lips.

His feet slid sheer off the rock and he was left hanging, dangling by the root that was slowly starting to weaken. _I've seen this so many times in films_ flashed through his mind. _And this isn't a film. They don't even know I'm here._


	15. Climbing

Hey, I'm on form this week - 6 chapters in 7 days? Thanks for your reviews. Please R & R - constructive crit is v.welcome. xx

**Lady Marian - **Yeah I'm a bit mean - but Will torture is kinda addictive, I mean, there's more to come - I'm obsessed! Thankies.

**Becaz13 -** Cliffs! I love them - thank-you for your lovely review - and we will be seeing a lot more of Saffi, I promise you (nods madly)

--

**Chapter 15:**

"What are you doing?" came an incredulous voice from above.

With difficulty, he glanced up, to see Amber's face staring down at him from another ledge.

"Just hanging."

"Stay still, and don't move."

"Oh yes, I can really go far from here." He retorted sarcastically.

"The more you move, the faster that plant is going to give up its hold, so I'd stay still if you don't want to be raspberry jam."

A quick glance at the drop below him told him she was right. He stayed still.

To his incredulity and horror, Amber clambered over the edge, descending rapidly. It took another glance to see that she wasn't wearing any shoes.

"What are you doing?"

She looked at him. "Rescuing you."

"I came to find _you._"

"Then work out how to get out without my help. I'll just sit and watch."

"You're going to kill yourself."

"No I'm not."

"You've got no shoes on."

"I know. Gives me more grip."

"You'll cut your feet open." He protested.

"You're wearing boots, see how far they got you. Stranded. Anyway, at least I won't fall off."

"Why are we arguing on a rock face?" Will asked incredulously.

"Well why ever not?" she shrugged, a grin tugging at her lips. "I haven't got anything else to do."

"I give up. Just help me out, will you?"

The grin on her face widened triumphantly. "Take your boots off." She commanded.

"How?"

"Okay, maybe not just yet." She leaned down extending a hand to him, coiling her other arm through some tree roots.

"Grab hold."

"You won't be able to support my weight."

She shrugged. "Doesn't mean I can't."

"You're mad, do you know that?"

She nodded. He reached out for her hand, holding on tight. "Now let go."

"I can't" his face looked panicked. If she couldn't hold his weight, they'd both fall.

"Trust me."

He looked up into her eyes and saw the certainty there. She wasn't going to let him go, even if it broke her arm. That kind of determination scared him. But it was enough.

He swallowed. And let go.

--

When he opened his eyes, he was still hanging. Her arm was shaking with the strain, but she was holding on grimly.

"Are you going to help me, or are you just going to hang there?" lines of pain creased her face as she struggled to support his weight.

"How?"

"Try and get a foothold. I'm going to pull you up."

He nodded nervously. His feet fought to grip the water and slime-slicked rock, finding a niche in the rock that he could lean on, taking some of the pressure off her arms.

She took a deep breath. "Hold on tight."

"Maybe we shouldn't do this."

"Will, do you want to die? That's what'll happen if you fall off." A sob choked her voice as it shook, fraught with anxiety.

"Maybe I can climb up from here." He suggested desperately.

She gave him a look, different from the one last night. This one was utterly unreadable.

"Will. Look around you. Do you see any other way up? Because if there was one, you would _not_ be stranded on that rock." Her hands gripped his wrists tighter.

"I am _not_ going to let go of you. Just hold on."

"I don't think I can." His voice was drenched with hopelessness.

"Do you trust me? I mean I can understand why not, hanging over a cliff, your life in someone else's hands, but-"

"It's not that. I'd trust you with my life." He sighed. "I don't want to pull you over too."

"This is _my_ decision. Now _hold on_."

He gulped. "Okay."

She swallowed, closing her eyes, trying to summon up the strength to pull him up. He looked up at her, eyes completely trusting, scaring her. She didn't deserve that trust. She didn't know if she was strong enough to pull him up, she didn't know whether she would be wrenched over the edge by the force of what she was attempting to do; she didn't know whether either of them would be alive in five minutes time. It was up to her mind only now. Mind over matter. If she had the willpower and a need dominant enough to surpass her strength, she could do this.

If not…If not, then they'd both fall.

And she'd have failed him. Failed herself.

She opened her eyes. "Hold on." She tightened her grip on his wrists, feeling his hands clench her wrists like manacles of iron.

She took a breath, steeling herself. She had to do this.

Digging her feet into the ledge, she forced herself upwards, dragging him towards safety with superhuman strength. For a few terrifying seconds, she teetered on the edge, wavering, staring down at her death.

Gasping in pain and exhaustion and raw terror, she drove her aching muscles upwards, hauling him upwards a little more, until she could grab under his shoulders and draw him onto the ledge with the last ounce of her strength.

Chest heaving, she slumped against the rock, gasping for breath.

Will held tightly onto the ledge, face pressed against the cool damp rock as his life flashed before his eyes. The black void had rushed up to meet him as Amber wavered on the edge, and he'd seen death as the rocks drew suddenly closer, threatening to tear him apart if they fell.

He felt dizzy after hanging there for so long, and he had no intention of falling off the ledge.

His fingers coiled around the rock tightly.

"Will?" Amber's fingers held tightly onto his shoulder. "You alright?" her voice trembled.

"Yeah." He managed a wan smile. "Just getting my balance back."

He pulled himself cautiously into a sitting position as his head cleared, letting out the breath he hadn't realised he'd been holding.

"Well, I'm not in any hurry to go rock climbing next year."

"Same."

"How did you get down there, then, if you didn't climb it?" he asked finally, gesturing at the bottles.

"There _is_ a path, you know."

"There is?" he kicked himself mentally for trying to take the easy route.

"Yeah." She gestured to a very visible dirt track that entered the little cove from the left.

He must have walked straight past it.

"So what did you actually come down here for?" she asked curiously.

Wracking his brains for an excuse that would actually bypass the fact that he'd been worried – she'd never liked people worrying about her, he stumbled across what he had been going to tell her last night.

"I thought you might want to hear the rest of my epic. This was the only time I could think of when the others wouldn't overhear." He lied.

She laughed. "So you nearly killed yourself coming down here to tell me about your adventure. It had better be worth it. I'm expecting something good now."

"Well…" he began, with the air of someone about to tell a very long tale.

"Well?"

"Ssshh. You wanted to hear it, didn't you?"

"Yep."

"Then be quiet."

And he recounted the whole story from beginning to end.

--


	16. Telling

**Chapter 16:**

Eventually, about an hour and a quarter after they'd gone to fetch the water, the two returned to the camp, the heavy water containers making it slow progress.

Will took one step into the clearing and came face to face with Marian, hands on her hips. He jumped in shock.

"Where have you been?" she flung her arms around his neck. "I thought you'd abandoned me again. I thought _she'd_ got you into some sort of trouble or something."

"No,_ She_ got me out of it actually."

Marian muttered something inaudible, before her face softened. "Well you're back now. We're nearly ready to go, so I packed up your tent while you were gone."

"Thanks."

He picked up his pack, slinging it over his shoulders, finding it surprisingly light. Amber dumped the water, ignoring the blatant glare Marian was slinging her way. He grabbed her pack to give it to her, but was nearly dragged over as he felt its weight.

Whoever'd packed her bag had made it intentionally heavy. Deliberately.

Amber shot him a warning glance as he opened his mouth to say something, so he remained silent. She took the pack without making a sound, shouldering the heavy knapsack easily, shooting a defiant look at Marian, and Will could sense the challenge that Amber had delivered.

Tension shuddered through the camp, denser than butter and just as thick. Marian returned the challenge, eyes burning. Amber stared back, grey eyes blazing with a cold fire that bit into her rival like knives of ice.

Marian dropped her gaze first, turning to stalk off, unable to hold with the raw fire.

Will was perplexed. He could never quite understand why Marian and Amber hated each other. Being stuck between two bitter adversaries was a hard place to sit.

"Marian."

The head turned. Her expression was normal again; face free from its angry contortion.

"Yes Will?" She smiled at him. It was unnerving. Around him, she was only ever Marian, the best friend he'd known for so many years. Around Amber, it seemed, she was a different person entirely.

"Nothing."

_There must be a reason_ he thought_ no-one hates someone for no reason_. _What could Amber have done to spark off such a reaction from such a usually gentle person?_

Unless she was only like that around him. It confused him.

As he set off down the hill, he found himself muttering. _Women._

--

It was midday by the time they reached their final checkpoint, and nearly everyone from the expedition was exhausted from walking or lack of sleep.

A large, tired and lethargic group of teenagers clambered back on the rickety coach, no longer caring that it was falling apart or that the sky had decided to open its heavens once more and drench the already sodden ground.

Watching Marian clamber in next to Robin, Will felt a twinge of jealously, before shrugging it off. Marian had other commitments now.

He flopped down next to Amber, who'd curled up by herself on an empty seat and was already half asleep. Her eyelids fluttered gently as she fought sleep. She felt the seat sink as he sat down, eyes flickering open and she flinched automatically.

He smiled, and she relaxed, sinking back down into the depths of sleep.

--

An hour later, she was jerked from sleep when the phone on the seat beside her rang shrilly, piercing her ear-drums with its penetrating shriek.

It took her ten seconds to realise that she was alone on the bus and another to work out that nobody was anywhere in sight. She bolted upright in the seat, hitting her head on one of the overhead lockers and cursing as she scanned anxiously around for everybody else.

Her heart relaxed from where it had clenched into a fist. Fuel stop. That meant a lot of hyperactive sugar-crazed teenagers for the rest of the journey home. Great.

Will's phone showed no signs of stopping. Cursing the ear-piercing ring-tone, she grabbed the phone and pressed green in sheer exasperation.

"Hello, Will's phone. Who's calling?"

"Oh." The voice on the other end sounded female and confused.

"Who's there?" she repeated, a vague notion blossoming in the back of her mind.

"It's Saffi. Do you know where Will is?"

_Ah, the elusive Saffi. That makes sense._

Amber grinned. "He told me all about you. We've stopped for fuel. He'll be back in a sec."

"Okay. Who am I speaking to?" Saffi asked.

"Amber. I'm-"

"No need. He's told me about you too." Saffi smiled shyly.

--

When Will returned a minute later, he found Amber talking cheerfully, engaged in an avid conversation with someone on the other end of his phone.

Poking her shoulder, he silently mouthed "Who is it?"

"Saffi." She whispered.

Will gaped, feeling his jaw drop. Saffi had not only called him back, but the shy girl was engrossed in conversation with someone she'd never met before.

"Yes, he's back now." Amber informed the phone. "I'll pass you over. Kay. Bye!"

She handed him the phone, grinning conspiratorially.

Still slightly stunned, Will blinked dazedly at the phone for a few seconds before gabbling, "Hello?"

_She'd actually called him. She'd……_

"Hi." Saffi answered cheerfully. There was no response.

"Will, are you there?"

Jumping in shock, Will was torn from his trance. "Y-yeah, I'm here."

"I was just talking to Amber. She seems nice."

"What happened to you being shy?" he grinned.

Saffi shrugged, before realising that he couldn't see her. "I don't know. We just happened to get talking. I heard some very interesting things about you." She added, giggling.

Will's jaw dropped. "What did she tell you."

Saffi smiled mischievously. "A few things. Some of them I couldn't repeat."

"Why not?"

"Because my dad's in the next room and he might overhear."

"Please tell me." He begged.

"Let's just say Allan's 15th Birthday, yeah?"

Will swore, banging his head on the window.

"Something wrong?" Saffi asked innocently.

"Not much." He groaned. "She's only gone and told you about the time-"

"Yeah, she did. I believe strip poker was involved – oh and the rest which I can't repeat."

"Yep, that's the one." He muttered. "Please don't tell me she told you about Disneyland."

"She did." Saffi informed him brightly.

"My life is over."

"I wouldn't say that. What about……"

"That? She didn't tell you that, did she? Please tell me she didn't!" he begged.

"Oh, she might have."

"My life is really over. You're never going to let me forget that, are you?"

"Nope." She grinned.

"I didn't think so."

"Anyway," Saffi countered. "Believe it or not, I didn't actually phone up to torment you. I was really ringing to see if you got out alive. I'm guessing you did."

"Just about. Missing you already."

"Me too, actually."

"What've you been up to then, while I was lost on the moors?"

"Reading, TV, computer, the usual. I reckon we should do it again tomorrow." She conspired with a grin.

He laughed. "Yeah, definitely."

"Well, I'd better go, I'm low on credit."

"Yeah, gossiping."

"I wasn't talking for _that_ long." She protested.

He snorted. "Yeah, sure."

"I wasn't! Anyway, gotta go. We'll have to meet up some time."

He nodded. "That'd be good."

"Kay, Bye. Love you." She whispered.

"Love you too. Bye."

The phone went dead.

--

Amber grinned at him. "She seems nice."

He mock glared at her. "Who are you, my grandmother? Oh, and you're dead by the way."

"I could've told her worse." She offered, still grinning like a Cheshire cat. "I could've told her about……Oh I did. Oops."

"I'm going to kill you. Really."

"Just try it. I'll flatten you. I decked my cousin and he's a foot taller than me."

"Well, most people are taller than you. You're like four foot high." He snorted.

"I'm not _that _short!" she protested. "Well, I'm growing anyway!"

She scowled at him. "Well you're so tall, I'm surprised blood gets to your head. That's why men are so dense."

He had nothing to counter that, so he turned his back on her and sulked.

She prodded him in the ribs. He ignored her. So she poked him again until she got his attention.

"My step-dad's not around, so do you and Marian want to come round to mine for a bit?"

"I'm not talking to you."

"Please?" she asked, giving him big, baleful puppy dog eyes.

"I can't hear you."

She played her trump card. "I've got chocolate chip cookies…" she offered.

"I'm in."


	17. Holding together & Losing

**Chapter 17:**

Half an hour later, creaking and groaning, the rickety old bus clanked back outside school, and very promptly broke down, an expanding pool of oil seeping from its underneath like blood.

"Well that was an interesting D of E." Amber commented as they debarked from the stricken vehicle.

"Somehow, I don't think they'll be many takers next year."

"Do you think they'll believe you when you write your expedition account?" she laughed

"Nah. I'll have to make it up."

"Well, we've still got five weeks and three days left of the summer holidays." Marian informed them cheerily, falling in step with Will.

Amber found herself forced backwards, the pavement being too narrow for the three of them. Walking quietly behind them, she felt left out, as though Marian had barged her out of the conversation. She sighed. Maybe that was the way it would always be. She was never really going to be 'one of them'.

"So are you coming round to my house Marian, or have you got stuff on?" She felt a need to bridge the silence that threatened to smother her. The last few words were tinged with untraceable sarcasm, which only Will caught.

Marian jumped slightly, as though she'd forgotten she was there, before shaking her head.

"I'm doing stuff. Robin's first and then we're going to do other stuff. I'm busy generally."

It sounded a poor excuse to Amber; one that had been improvised at the last minute, as though to avoid something unpleasant.

Amber shrugged. "Fine." She was used to being ignored. It wasn't anything new.

"Why don't we go round to my place?" Will suggested, trying to defuse the tension that had sizzled between the two. "How bout a movie, pizza and popcorn?"

"Sorry Will, I would but I'm busy." She gave Will a _look_, and Amber a glare, before crossing over the road to her house, waving frantically. The _look_ said _fine with me, but not in present company_. She jerked her head slightly, indicating her house.

Will felt torn apart. On one hand, Marian was his best friend – she was kind, sympathetic and listened to him. But the dislike she carried for Amber was twisting her. Maybe she couldn't see what she'd become. He could walk off with her now, go to the party at Robin's house and leave Amber standing there alone with that bleak, desolate expression. He could go off and enjoy himself. Forget everything.

But his conscience, and his heart held him back. He stayed. Frustrated, Marian mouthed _later_ at him across the road.

Amber glared back defiantly as Marian walked off.

"Why does she always do that? Make me feel inferior all the time." Maybe in truth, her soul did know. But she couldn't share that with anyone.

"I think she's feeling a little insecure."

"Insecure? I've been trying to be accepted for three entire years. How much longer does she need, for crying out loud?"

"Maybe you should just talk to her."

"Spare me the crap, Will." Amber snapped. She sighed, raking a hand through her hair. "I'm sorry. I'm just sick to death of being ignored, of not existing." She bit down on her lip, feeling blood trickle over her tongue.

"How much longer to I have to wait? How long until I can just give up?"

Will slung an arm around her shoulders. "You can't give up. That's what. You have to keep trying."

"What if I don't want to?" she murmured.

"Then I'm gonna annoy the hell out of you until you do. I will be your personal poltergeist, I swear."

A faint smile crept up her face.

"Come on. Race you back. First one there gets to choose the movie." Will grinned.

"You're on."

She sped away faster than he'd anticipated and he ran, desperately trying to keep up with her. He sped up, tearing along the street like a greyhound, just keeping level with her. She was faster than he'd expected – he'd been anticipating an easy win.

He didn't know what films she liked – and if he lost, he might end up watching the Texas chainsaw massacre.

--

Grinning, he raced her into the kitchen, tapping the table just moments before her.

"Oh Yes! I win again!" he laughed.

Gasping for breath, she flopped into a chair, still giggling.

He poked her in the side. "Get up lazy."

"No." she pouted, elbowing him in the ribs.

She poked the mound of paper rising on the table.

"There's a note for you here. I think it's from your dad."

Will groaned. "What, does he want me to get some shopping again?"

"Don't know. Read it."

He took the scribbled note. In seconds, the words hit him like a smack in the face and all traces of his previous humour dissolved.

Amber watched his face drop. "What is it?" she whispered, sensing the rapid change in mood.

"My mum." He murmured. "She's got worse." Urgency flooded his gaze.

"I've gotta go see her. Now."

"I'll come with you."

He nodded.

In a walk that broke swiftly into a run, Will grabbed her hand, towing her out of the house.

Fear snatched at his heart. The letter could have been written days ago. It could be already too late. He put on a fresh spurt of speed, running down the road with all his strength; faster and faster, his heart pumping adrenalin fiercely around his body, raw fear pulsing in his head.

Amber sprinted alongside him, their hands never separating for a moment. Breathlessly, spurred on by fear and desperation, Will increased in speed, dragging her with him.

He ran until his lungs were bursting, feet aching and blistered.

He stumbled, dropping to his knees.

"We'll never get there." He murmured breathlessly, hopelessness drenching his voice.

"Not far now." Amber breathed, hauling him to his feet. "Come on."

Progress was slower than ever now, as they stumbled wearily up the hill. The journey seemed to last forever, every second lasting a lifetime as they spanned the last street.

"Just. Round. The. Corner." He gasped, trying to speed up a little, his leaden feet and legs protesting vehemently.

Time seemed to freeze once more as the care home loomed suddenly above them. Will gazed up at the large building.

Suddenly, he didn't want to go in.

Now, the thing he wanted most in the world was to run back home and hide. This was the last place he wanted to be.

He turned to leave as abruptly as he arrived, but Amber's hand snaked around his wrist and held on tight. "Come on. We need to find out what's going on."

Sensing she was right, despite his mind's first, raw instinct to run, he stopped pulling and followed her into the building.


	18. LOSING

**Finally updating once more. I've actually finished now, so bear with me while I tie up a few loose ends. The quality of my stuff should be improving now that I've finished school, so fingers crossed.**

**Please R&R. Even constructive criticsm is welcomed. xxx**

**Chapter 18:**

He pushed through the glass doors with fresh fear blossoming in his heart, looking for his dad and brother, looking for the room his mother lay in, and praying that she was still with them.

At last he reached the still, silent corridor where the door that decided the terrible truth lay. He swallowed. He didn't want to open this door. He didn't want to face the truth.

Amber sat down in a chair outside the room. "I'll be right here if you need me."

He nodded, apprehension threatening to swallow him.

Time thudded in his ears, time his mother didn't have, time that was rapidly running away through his fingers like sand. He knew that she would die soon. He just hoped that that day would never have to come; that he'd never have to face this day.

He pushed open the door.

He let out a sigh of relief. She was still there, still with them.

Allowing a small smile to grace his face, he entered into the room.

"Mum?" She didn't reply. Then again, she never did when she was asleep.

"Mum?" he shook her shoulder gently.

And in that instant, he knew something was horribly, terribly wrong. She was as cold as ice, and stiller than a corpse. No breath escaped the emaciated shell before him. No blood circulated in the ice cold heart, or warmed the cold, solid flesh. No heart pounded in the solid, dead ribcage.

"No." he breathed. She couldn't. She couldn't be……She wasn't.

Any minute now, he'd wake up from this crazy, stupid nightmare and be in his tent on the D of E expedition……

Any minute now…Any……

Come on. Wake up. Wake up! Now!

Inner voices screamed at him.

He wasn't waking up. And neither was she.

That meant that the only possible conclusion; the absolute worst conclusion, the most devastating conclusion that he prayed he'd never have to face; was happening.

No! Voices screamed in his head, deafening him with their unearthly roar. It couldn't be. She couldn't be.

He was asleep.

He gripped his skin tightly between pincer-like fore-fingers. It hurt one hell of a lot. He was awake.

But that meant… It meant that……she was dead.

A tsunami of agonising revelations hit him in a barrage of torment and anguish. She was gone. He would never see her smile, never hear her laugh, never hear her voice, never see her face alive again.

She would never be with him again. She was dead.

She was gone.

It was over, final and infinite.

She was gone.

-------------------------------------------------------------------

The door sprung open, startling him. He jerked around, eyes wide and dilated.

One of the carers stared back at him, compassion in her eyes. "I'm sorry."

He swallowed. "When did……when did she…" he couldn't bring himself to say the word.

"Last night, about six 'o clock."

Last night. Last night? He should have been there. He should have been there with her, instead of wasting time on that stupid expedition. He should have been here.

Guilt sapped his strength. He should have been there in her last moments as she passed away. The same thought reverberated through his head, over and over again, drumming a tattoo on the inside of his skull. He should have been there.

He turned his head stiffly to the doorway, devastation in his eyes. Amber stood there, heart torn, tears in her eyes.

"Let's go home." She whispered.

Numbly, he allowed her to take his hand, following her as she led him out of the care home, not daring to look at the cold form that had been his mother. It was no longer her. It was a shell.

He didn't remember the taxi ride home, just the endless passing of trees and houses, and grass and people, as time flashed before his eyes, faster than ever.

And then he was home, slumped into a sagging sofa, empty and broken.


	19. Revealing

**Chapter 19:**

He sank back against the sofa, allowing the devastating fullness of what had happened to sink in. The phone dropped from his limp fingers and he let the tears roll down his face; their empty saltiness trickling tiredly down his face, like colourless droplets of blood dribbling from a wound.

He buried his face in the pillow, clinging to it fiercely as spasms of pain and horror rippled through him, tearing his soul like frail, delicate spider webs. The emptiness ate into him, burying into him; leaving a huge, jagged rent torn into his flesh.

She was gone. It terrified him to realise that she was gone forever, and would never be coming back. He would never see her again. The frightening reality was too painful to contemplate.

------------------------------------------------------------------

Amber stood in the kitchen, endlessly stirring the mugs of tea; feeling her own thoughts as muddled and tangled as the spiralling water.

Seeing Will like that; so devastated, so broken reminded her of………she sighed. She didn't want to think about it. Shoving the memory to the back of her mind, she stirred each mug once more and threw her mind into carefully balancing the cups on the tray as she took them to the lounge.

She laid the mugs gently on the table, forcing her shaking hands to remain still. It was his moment of grieving. He shouldn't have to endure hers as well.

-------------------------------------------------------------------

Will barely noticed as Amber handed him the warm mug, sipping it mechanically.

He sat there for an age, staring at the tea, feeling as it gradually cooled, throwing his whole mind into this numb, pointless task, so that it could not linger on his mother's face, every memory he had of her since he'd been born.

She'd sat there, watching her own tea, waiting for him to speak, to be ready, just content being a comforting, stable presence. She had not moved in over an hour, in all the time he'd sat there, still, unmoving.

Finally, her voice broke the endless silence. "Do you want to talk?"

Grief and loss translated to anger and irritation in his mind. "Why? It's always talking. Always one-sided. They tell you their problems, you listen. You never talk. Why do you never talk about you? How can you expect them to talk, when you never think to tell them a thing about you?" he snapped.

"Because I don't exist in their minds. It's easy to talk to something that doesn't exist. If it's nothing, it can't tell everyone, can it? If it's nothing it can't burden you with its own problems. If no-one wants me to exist, then I can't. They don't want to hear me. And I don't want their pity."

A little guilt and compassion wormed its way into his heart. "I want to hear you. You've always listened to me. Why would you think that I wouldn't want to listen to you?"

"I didn't want you to have to bother about me. You had enough things to think about without me as well."

"I don't know anything about you. You're one of my closest friends and I know nothing about you. Doesn't that strike you as strange?"

"I don't know anymore. Maybe I never did."

"Tell me about you. You know everything about me. I want to know something about you."

"I have a brother in Year Ten."

"You have a brother?" Will asked in surprise. She nodded.

"Who is he?" he added.

She paled visibly. "You know him."

He shook his head bemused. "I don't think so."

She swallowed. "Believe me, you do."

Light dawned in his eyes. "It's not Robin is it?"

She gave a strangled laugh. "No!" her voice faded hoarsely.

"Then who is it?"

Her skin paled to an ashy grey. Something akin to fear flickered in her eyes.

"Tell me." He told her softly.

She looked up at him. "Guy." She whispered.

Will spluttered as a lightning bolt of surprise, anger and horror coursed through his veins, and he gave an involuntary jerk, spilling tea in his lap.

"Guy?!" he squeaked. "Gisborne - Guy?"

Amber hunched over in her chair, head bowed. "I told you you knew him." She mumbled.

"But……How?" he gabbled, speech temporarily beyond his grasp, scrambled momentarily like his thoughts, as this new, utterly surprising and bemusing pieces of news bowled him over.

"He was alright……he was okay until our parents divorced when I was nine and he was ten. My parents, they had a custody battle and neither of them seemed to want us, eager to pass us on to the other. Eventually, it got so bitter; we were taken into care for a while, before we went to live with my aunt."

She sighed.

"When he started in Year 7, he started hanging around with Vaisey, because I think that hurting others was some sort of release for him. He changed.

He's been trying to leave Vaisey's gang for several months now. I made him see what was going down and I think the human side of him saw it was wrong.

Trouble is, Vaisey's like a shark. He won't let go. And I think, for Guy, seeing you and Marian together sparked off a little flare of jealousy in his heart, because he would never be able to do that.

He does care about her. He's just confused. Anger is his only outlet, I think."

It was possibly the longest piece of dialogue she'd ever achieved, for one who was normally quite quiet, talking only when she needed to. Perhaps that was why they'd gotten along so well, being so similar.

Will gaped at her. Nearly everything he'd believed about her and his archenemy had been reduced to dust, torn down and crumbled in a matter of minutes.

She wasn't an only child, she was one of two, choosing to whitewash out the less than desirable parts of her life.

Guy wasn't a bloodthirsty maniac, with an inhuman desire for pain and suffering. He did not revel in it like his twisted leader.

He was an angry, hurt-filled teenager, whose only outlet was by transferring his pain to others, to make them hurt like he was hurting.

"I know it doesn't excuse what he's done." Amber murmured. "I just wanted you to know that he's not like Vaisey."

A trickle of sympathy for his archenemy seeped through his skull, cooling a little of the red hot anger concealed in his heart.

Curiosity coiled in the pit of his skull. "Who else knows?" he asked.

"About me and Guy? Only Marian. I didn't tell anyone else."

He nodded, numbly contemplating this revelation."

"Why didn't you tell us before?"

"I didn't know any of you when I started in year 7." She told him, "All I knew was that my brother was a member of a notoriously vicious gang; had a reputation for being dangerous and unstable, and that was generally not a good thing to tell my friends."

"Why not? We'd have understood." Will reassured her.

"When I first told Marian, she didn't really trust me after that. I think she thinks I'm a spy for the other side. That's why she hates me.

The last thing I wanted was to be kicked out of the gang for being a traitor, so I didn't tell anyone else after that. I couldn't afford to lose the only friends I'd got."

He placed a hand on top of hers. "You're not going to be kicked out. It doesn't make a difference."

"Tell Robin that." She murmured. "Anything to do with Guy and he sees red. Or he'll try and use me as some kind of pawn to hurt him, and I'm sorry, Guy's done a lot of terrible things, but I will not intentionally hurt my brother. And you know what Marian or Robin'll say to that."

"I won't let him throw you out."

Amber's face worked. She buried her face in her hands, hunched over in her seat.

He leaned across and wrapped an arm around her. At first she resisted, then let him, burying her face in his shoulder.

"Thank-you." She whispered in his ear.

"Don't worry about it."

She wiped her eyes as he released her, picking up the two discarded mugs. "I'll make us some fresh teas, yeah?"

He nodded as she disappeared. The turn of events had numbed him, and although there was still a huge hole in his heart, he felt a lot calmer and in control.

They had both broken barriers tonight.


	20. Reuniting

**Chapter 20:**

As she made the tea, Amber shuddered as she realised just how much about herself she had revealed. But Will was her closest friend and she knew she could trust him with anything.

Then she made a phone call.

-------------------------------------------------------

A thought occurred to him as Amber handed him the hot mug.

"Do you know where my dad and brother are?"

"I think the nurse said your dad was going to drop off Luke at your Aunt's house in Scarborough. From what I heard, I think he was planning to stay the night."

"So he doesn't know I'm back yet?"

"Either that or he's forgotten."

Will nodded. He wondered about calling Saffi, but his mind was too emotionally exhausted to muster the strength, or even think about what to say. He sighed.

He sipped the tea and almost gagged on the sickly sweetness. "How much sugar did you put in this?" he choked, almost laughing as he gasped for breath.

"I was going to put a few teaspoons in, for shock, you know, but my hand slipped and I managed to tip half the pot in. I thought it'd wake you up anyway."

"I think you've probably put me back in shock now. I'll probably have a sugar high." He drank a little more for good measure.

A loud knock at the door made him jump. Amber leapt to her feet. "I'll get it."

"Who is it?"

She smiled conspiratorially. "Guess."

His mind reeled with all the possibilities, finally settling on the one person she was most likely to have called; the person she felt would help most in this situation. Saffi. His heart gave a little leap, too tired to jump any higher. He'd missed her a lot, and it'd only been two days.

"Saffi?" he asked, subdued elation flooding his veins.

"Wait and see."

She disappeared in the shadowy hallway.

-------------------------------------------------------

She'd clambered out of her seat to answer the door, hoping that it was Saffi and not some random unhelpful person. Will really needed to be cheered up right now, or at least distracted. She'd smiled when she'd seen the light in Will's eyes return a little at the mention of his absent girlfriend, glad that she'd made the call.

She opened the door, coming face to face with the girl she'd seen in the photos on Will's phone. "You must be Saffi."

The girl smiled nervously, "Then I guess that makes you Amber."

She nodded equally nervously, allowing Saffi to enter the hallway.

"He's just through there." Amber whispered, gesturing towards the lounge.

"How is he?"

"Not good. A little better but still not good. He'll be glad to see you though."

The comment brought a smile to the other girl's face and Amber disappeared into the kitchen under the pretence of making her a drink, so that the couple could have a little privacy.

------------------------------------------------------------

Anxiously, Saffi tiptoed towards the sitting room, suddenly shy again. While they'd been alone in the middle of nowhere, it had seemed like a dream where anything could happen – and it had. It had been sweet, wonderful and blissfully random, governed only by their own actions and consciences and it had been only about them.

Now, back in the real world, in reality, there were billions of other people and the harshness of reality had struck home cruelly. Now they were back in the real world, she was nervous that everything they'd had was just an extension of that fantasy and no longer existed. Would he still be pleased to see her? Would he even want to see her now?

Had it all just been some wild fantasy to escape from a reality that now no longer existed?

Balancing nervously on the balls of her feet, she tiptoed into the lounge.

Will was perched miserably on the edge of the sofa and his head jerked up at the sound of the door creaking open.

A mixture of confusion and delight spread across his face and relief coursed through Saffi as the forlorn, lost look on his face lessened slightly. He hadn't forgotten her. The adrenalin rush that flooded her veins spurred her momentum and she found herself flinging her arms around him.

-------------------------------------------------------

Peeking through the crack in the open doorway on tiptoes, and supporting the weight of a tray was not an easy task, and after five minutes she was easily bored, waiting for an opportunity to enter the room without disturbing something.

Amber leant back against the doorframe, wood pressing into her back, the ache in her arms from supporting the tray gnawing at her muscles, sapping their strength.

Eventually, she could only hear the steady murmur of speech and staggered to her feet, legs dead after standing still for so long. Stretching as best she could with a heavy tray, she pushed open the door, _just_ balancing, _just_ not spilling the hot tea all over the tray.

And she could feel the bones in her wrist stretching where she'd dislocated them a year ago.

She looked up at the two solemn, but smiling faces and made her way as hastily as she could to the table before her wrist went.

She could feel the bones grating, threatening to slip out of their joint. Her elbow began to stretch, putting more pressure on the wrist. Leaning more heavily on the other side, she staggered towards them.

Her wrist gave, buckling with a jolt of agony that spread up her arm in waves. She let go of the tray, clamping her eyes shut. _There was going to be a mess on the carpet_ was her only thought as she cradled her wrist to her chest, biting down on her lip until she tasted blood. The tang of salt and metal tainted her tongue.

She could hear voices, seeming so far away, but when she opened her eyes, the tray was not on the floor. It had been removed from her hands before her wrist gave, balancing safely on the table.

A hand touched her shoulder, jolting her out of the cloud of shock and pain.

"Are you alright?" Saffi looked worried. "Amber?"

"It's her wrist." She heard Will explain. "She dislocated it last year. It's been weak ever since."

Their voices seemed so distant, the other side of a void.

"Amber?"

She blinked dizzily. The pain receded slightly. She forced her eyes open, blinking furiously as they blurred, trying to see through the haze that clouded her vision.

"Yeah I'm here." She murmured.

"Did it dislocate?" Saffi sounded concerned still.

"Yeah." With all her strength, she dragged herself out of the swirling mist and back into reality.

Faces swam in front of her, gradually clearing as her vision focused.

Her wrist erupted in pain, white hot knives stabbing the skin, the bone as she shifted position.

"Amber?"

She forced her head upwards to look at Saffi, feeling the familiar grating as the bone attempted to slip back into position.

Amber snatched back her arm as Saffi examined the bruised area with a hiss of pain.

"Sorry. Are you sure you're alright? I think the bone is going back in, but you're white as a sheet."

Amber gave her a wan grin. "You should've seen the mess it was the first time."

"No thanks. You scared me enough this time."

"Yeah, I was scarred for life after that. It was like something from _Casualty_ or something. You couldn't just dislocate it could you? You had to rip the skin too, and have half your arm hanging off."

"Nah, that bit was just to make it more fun for you to watch. I don't do things half way."

She winced as the bone clicked back into its original position.

"Has it gone back?"

"Yeah. I won't be trying that again. From now on, Will carries the trays. He's a man."

"That's not fair." He protested weakly.

"Depends on how you look at it."

"Well, still……"

"Anyway, what I was going to say before my arm caused a scene was that I think we should do something tonight. You know, watch a movie or something. Texas Chainsaw massacre, something nice and gory to scare the hell out of us."

"It might work. I've never heard of it as a traditional method, but new _is_ good."

"Have you ever seen it?"

Amber shrugged. "Nope."

"It gave my brother nightmares for a month."

"Yeah but he's ten and shouldn't be watching it."

"Fair point. It kinda spooked me too."

"Kay. How bout something less bloodthirsty?" she offered.

"Maybe. Let's order pizza too."

"Why?"

"'Cos I've never done it before, that's why."

Amber laughed. "Fair enough."

-------------------------------------------------------

An hour later, they were still arguing over films.

Pizza had arrived but had been abandoned on the floor amongst a few heaps of DVDs that buried the lounge.

And everything was in chaos.

Grabbing the nearest DVD, Amber opened the case without looking and decided to solve the arguments with nobody's choice. She reached out, placed the film in the machine and in that split second, a sudden flash tore through the whole room, and the house was plunged into impenetrable darkness.

"Well there goes that idea."

-------------------------------------------------------

"Whose idea was it to tie us together with string?" Amber asked after a few minutes of fumbling in the dark kitchen for candles. "I'm practically wrapped round a doorframe here."

"Yours." Came the two person strong reply.

"Oh.

"Well has anyone found anything yet?" she amended.

"A few candles, but no matches."

"What's this?"

"How do I know? It's pitch black."

"Aha!" a sudden flicker of orange illuminated Amber's face as she struck a match, so close to Saffi that she nearly set both of them on fire.

-------------------------------------------------------

A short while later, the house was once more filled with a glow of light, tiny orange flames flickering warmly around the room, twinkling like minute suns.

The pizza was gone. And now they were bored. Will ran a hand over his face, trying to scour away the memories that persistently attacked his mind.

He shook his head, blinking back the images that rested on his retinas.

It didn't help. The unquenchable misery began to seep back into his soul, trying to rip him apart.

"Will?" Saffi squeezed his fingers, bringing him back to the present moment.

"Mm?"

"Don't let it destroy you."

"What?"

"She means, there's grieving, and there's tearing yourself apart. And you shouldn't go there. It will destroy you."

"I just……can't see past the dark."

"You've got us."

"True." He smiled slightly.

"I don't know whether it's a blessing or a curse, but you've got us anyway. I'm a limpet by the way. I don't let go." Amber added.

"I guessed that. But thanks."

Saffi smiled.

Amber grinned. "Now I'm thinking, _spin the bottle_ or _hide and seek_?"

"_Spin the bottle_ for definite." Saffi enthused gleefully.

"What have I let myself in for?" Will asked nervousness seeping into his voice.

"You'll see."


	21. Playing

Chapter 21:

He span the empty bottle nervously, praying it wouldn't land on him. He didn't trust them when it came to dares.

He swore inwardly as the bottle's nose stopped, paused in front of him.

Amber grinned wickedly across their make-shift circle at him.

"Truth, Dare, Double dare, kiss, command or promise?"

His face lit up as he found a way to salvage the situation. "Kiss."

Hopefully fate would place its cards right and……

Come on…

The two girls turned away, whispering hurriedly and giggling. Damn. Why did he agree to play this game?

Amber turned back. "You have to kiss Saffi……"

"Yes!" he yelled, punching the air, grinning like a Cheshire cat.

Then he noticed the evil grins both girls were wearing. His expression dampened slightly.

Please…Please……Please?

"…… But…." Saffi added, "You have to kiss my feet."

"No way. That's a fate worse than death! Not doing it." He protested feebly, wincing as Saffi smacked him atop the head. He should've known not to trust them.

"Do it, or we can think of a worse forfeit." She threatened.

"How much worse?" he asked, not really wanting to know the answer.

"Let's say, how about licking her feet?" Amber suggested.

"Yeah." Saffi grinned

Will pulled a face. "Okay I'll do it."

Her feet didn't actually smell that bad, but they were damn cold though. He bent down and kissed her foot as quickly as he could and recoiled.

"Did it."

The game gradually became sillier and more random; until Amber had to sit on the windowsill and yell to the whole slightly crowded street that she was pregnant, and Saffi had to run across the street and back again with a pair of boxers on her head.

By the time each of them had completed an embarrassing set of dares and were forced to admit some rather personal questions, Amber nudged Saffi and pointed in Will's direction.

He was fast asleep.

Amber grinned. "Are you thinking what I'm thinking?"

"As long as you have some bright lipstick, definitely." Saffi returned slyly.

"That, I can manage."

She scoured her bag silently until she found a scarlet red lipstick and handed it to Saffi, who smeared the thick crimson mixture on her lips and gave it back.

"You too."

Amber imitated her actions, and each girl planted a light kiss of each of Will's cheeks. The lipstick left bright kiss marks on each of his cheeks, while Amber daubed _I love Saffi_ in capitals on his forehead.

"Hand it over. You're not having all the fun."

Saffi grabbed the lipstick, drawing love hearts around the kiss shapes on his cheeks. Then she scrawled _Sex Bomb_ across a remaining piece of unpainted skin and let Amber apply scarlet across Will's lips for good measure.

Then they paused to admire their artwork.

"Genius." Saffi sighed

"Definitely."

"Shall we wake him up now?"

"Yeah, he might want to actually go to bed. Hopefully it won't smudge."

Amber poked his shoulder.

He groaned. "What?"

"Do you want to sleep propped up against a wall all night or would you rather lie down?"

Muttering under his breath, he shifted, flopping onto the sleeping bags they had zipped together and falling instantly asleep again.

Saffi smiled at the sleeping figure. "Thank you for phoning me. It means a lot."

"You deserved to know what was going on. And I couldn't have done this by myself." Amber gestured at the doodling on Will's face.

Saffi laughed. "Well I might not be able to show my face around here again after that boxer incident."

"Same here. I might get some awkward questions and looks in the morning."

She slumped onto the sleeping bags beside Will, while Saffi curled up on his other side, and between them, they were asleep in seconds.

----------------------------------------------------

As bright light pierced her waking eyelids, Amber muttered a curse under her breath, as she was disturbed from her unconscious state. She twisted out from under the covers as Will clambered sleepily out, his make-up still intact.

She leaned across and poked Saffi in the ribs as Will headed for the bathroom.

"Wake up sleepy-head."

"What?"

"You're gonna miss it……"

"What?" she yawned, "Oh that." She bolted upright.

"Wait for it……Wait for it……5…4…3…2…1½…1¼…1…½ …Come on…-"

Will's cry of "What the hell have you done to my face?" shattered the peaceful silence of the morning and they clasped their hands over their ears.

"He found out then." Amber commented.

"Yeah, took him long enough."

With newfound vigour, Will sprinted back into the bedroom, face still smeared with lipstick.

"We…uh…gave you a new look."

"A…very new look." Saffi supplied.

"I'm going to kill you. Both of you."

"Ah, but we have picture evidence." Amber grinned.

"You What?"

"Pictures."

"You dare…"

"Try me…"

"That's it." Will groaned. "I regret ever letting you two see each other. It only causes me trouble."

"So…" Saffi smiled innocently, "Do you like it?"

He mock glared at her and stalked off.

Amber rolled her eyes at his retreating back. "Mature."

"Absolutely."

"Breakfast?"

"How about pancakes and syrup?"

"My speciality. Providing I don't set them on fire of course. We kind of owe him a decent breakfast after that. Let me loose on that kitchen. Let me just say beforehand that I have absolutely no responsibility if I accidentally happen to burn down the house."

"Fair enough."


	22. Thinking

**Chapter 22:**

"I've been thinking." Amber commented over breakfast.

"I know. I can hear it from over here."

"Very funny, but seriously, are you guys coming to my birthday thing this week? I mean you don't have to, you know with everything that's happened, but you're still welcome to come."

"Yeah I'm up for it."

"When is it?" Saffi asked.

"This Thursday, two days time."

Saffi groaned. "Sorry I can't. It's my Dad's birthday then and we're having the family round. Otherwise I'd love to come."

"Guess it's just me then." Will grinned.

"It's smart/casual so Will, you can't wear a dress. It's counted as drag."

"I won't, I promise."

Saffi snorted with laughter, almost inhaling her apple juice. "I can see you in a dress."

Her words were met by an indignant glare.

---------------------------------------------------

Amber and Saffi stayed at Will's for the next two days, finishing the party preparations and planning outfits. Although sad that she couldn't come, Saffi was glad that she could do something useful.

Will was just glad to have something to take his mind off the loss of his mother, although it was numbed slightly by the fact that he had been expecting it for a long time, but this didn't lessen the blow of missing her.

He was looking forward to the party, eager for something else to distract him. He'd even let Saffi plan his outfit for the occasion, and he had to acknowledge that she had good taste.

They were both trying so hard, and neither of them had left him alone for longer than a minute since they'd arrived, and he really appreciated it. He thought of Amber as his sister now – attached at the hip, irritating and yet kind and supportive. His relationship with Saffi was thriving and the fact that they were now living together, however temporary, only strengthened that.

It would have been so much harder struggling to cope alone, in an empty house full of ghosts and memories.

------------------------------------------------------------

It was the afternoon of the party, and he suspected someone; most likely Allan; had managed to acquire the use of a nightclub with a bar – consequently owned by his cousin – who would allow them access to alcohol.

Amber had rolled her eyes at that. Allan was her boyfriend, but it didn't allow for him to get completely drunk at a supposedly no-alcohol do. She didn't drink, and neither did several of the group, Marian and Will included.

She was excited now. Nervous even. Saffi had left that morning, after apologising profusely and making sure she was wearing _that_ dress; the deep crimson red one that she'd chosen and made sure that Will was wearing _that_ black shirt and the dark jeans and was going to gel his hair.

She'd also insisted that Amber curl her hair. Amber had scowled at that. She hated curling tongs. But Saffi was usually right.

So it was that afternoon, around five that she and Will caught a cab up to the open nightclub, dressed up to make Saffi and her styling proud.

Guy had been there to meet her, and although there had been some evident silent tension between her brother and Will, it seemed they'd made a wary, unspoken truce, so as not to spoil her day.

To her relief, Guy had ditched the leather and was wearing something more suitable – A crimson shirt similar to the colour of her dress, as if he had known what she was wearing; open at the neck and a few buttons further down with short sleeves; and black jeans.

It seemed he'd made an effort, and she was grateful. It was too hot for leather anyway. But she knew that, if Guy was still avidly following Vaisey, he'd be wearing the leather even if it was 40˚C and would rather boil than ditch his status.

Soon the party had been in full swing and Allan had arrived, looking fantastic as always – it seemed he'd spent longer preening himself that she had. He'd hooked an arm around her waist and kissed her, and she'd smelt alcohol on his breath. Had he been drinking already? At Six 'o clock?

She shook her head. Allan wasn't really her type of person – she didn't want to be a trophy on his arm; she'd rather have someone who cared about her feelings than about the way he looked. But for now, everything was fine and she did have feelings for Allan, whatever they were. It didn't help that he was dangerously attractive.

But she'd kissed him back with the promise of more to come and Allan had sprinted across to the bar for a few drinks and she'd been left to greet Marian and some other friends alone.

-------------------------------------------------------------

She danced for a bit and talked to people, but now she was sitting at the side with Guy, just talking. Allan was tipsy, if not drunk and he'd barely paid any attention to her since he'd arrived.

Her brother had looked a little lonely; the few friends he'd had weren't invited and he barely considered them as friends anymore. So she'd perched on a seat next to him, and she was trying to wear him down over something she'd been working on for several weeks.

"Look." She sighed. "Just go and apologise to her. Marian's alright. Just talk to her and apologise. Acknowledge that you've made some mistakes and just try and make the peace. Then you can start again."

"She hates me, you know that."

"It's worth a try."

"It'll just make things worse. She'll think I'm lying, or trying to bribe her or something. I mean, she's going out with Robin now. He'll be pouring poison into her ears about me. He hates me."

"Just try. It's all I'm saying. All you have to do is talk."

He sighed. "Alright. I'll try."


	23. Failing & Losing

**Chapter 23:**

It was later that evening when he approached Marian, nervous and self-conscious; terrified about her reaction.

He coughed awkwardly and Marian span around, face contorting in disgust and irritation. "What now?" she snapped irritably at the young man.

Guy swallowed. "Can I talk to you for a moment? In private."

She rolled her eyes. "If you can't tell me in public, don't bother at all."

"Please Marian."

Then his heart sank as Robin wandered over. "Still fighting a losing battle Gisborne?"

"I just want to talk."

"Well she doesn't care, so you can back off and go back to the hellhole you crawled out of." "Marian, please. I'm sorry." He was begging now, and the little pride he had left was being given a severe bruising.

"Please just go. You've done enough. I don't care anymore."

"Hear that Gisborne? You're not wanted. So get lost." Robin sneered.

With a last pleading glance at Marian, Guy turned tail and fled, cursing that he'd ever bothered to try to talk to her.

He threw himself into a chair by the door and kicked the wall angrily, startling several people. He dropped his head into his hands, kneading his forehead. Why couldn't she just listen? Even though he knew it was his fault, he wished that she could come into some form of understanding or tolerance to at least let him apologise.

Irritable and restless, Guy stood up again, leaning against the door frame.

His hands balled into fists in frustration.

Why was it always him standing alone?

---------------------------------------------------------------

Amber stared sadly out of the open window, feeling the rain on the palms of her hands, cool, unending, pure. She took another backwards glance towards the bar, feeling the tears trickle down her face. Angrily, she wiped them away, so as not to give him the satisfaction of knowing that she was upset.

He was still there. Completely drunk, yet still able to control his own actions, knowing full well how much he was hurting her. What she would do to him when this was over. Kill him. No. He was undeserving even of that. It was her birthday. It wasn't supposed to be like this.

Still had his arms round two pretty girls, both of whom he'd probably never met in his life. Flirting and worse. Far worse. Laughing and giggling, loudly, on display for all to see. Not bothered about her feelings. How had she even fallen for him in the first place? He was a fake, a false promise, just another disappointment in a life that desperately needed colour, freedom. And Allan had been that. Until now. Barely a few days after she'd given in to his pleadings and wheedling. He was gone.

A hand tightened on her shoulder. She twisted around, angry red tear tracks blotching pale skin. It was Guy.

She was drawn instantly into a tight hug, clinging to him, feeling like a small child hanging onto her brother's hand like when she was younger.

"You look beautiful." He murmured in her ear, "He doesn't know what he's missing."

"I look a mess you mean." She told him sadly.

He shook his head, "You don't. He's just a waste of space. Forget about him." His eyes drifted towards the bar, face contorting in disgust as he saw Allan.

"Anyway, I've got something for you. Your birthday." He produced a small gift, wrapped in silver, swathed in a pearly silken ribbon.

Curiously, she gently loosened the ribbon, slipping it around her wrist as she prised open one corner of the present. A strange sense of euphoria enveloped her, and the similar excited feeling that used to descend on Christmas Day morning, when they had to wait for what seemed like forever to open their presents, clamouring at their parents' door at six in the morning, unable to sleep.

She peeled off the wrapping paper, revealing a small oblong box, not unlike that of a ring, only larger.

She lifted the lid, finding a silver locket, about the size of a large ring, and the shape of a heart. Tiny orange gemstones studded the outside, and her name, carved in the same lava-coloured stone. Amber. Her fingers traced the amber letters carved into the locket, feeling the smooth resin bulge beneath her fingertips.

"It's beautiful" she whispered.

He smiled. "Open it."

She lifted the catch, opening the locket wide. Inside was a picture, clear as the day on which it was taken.

She stared enthralled, the photo bearing just the two of them, as they were when they were younger, the way it was, before the divorce, before everything.

She looked up into his steady gaze. "Thank-you." She murmured.

Guy grinned, his smile fading as his eyes fell upon the teenager by the bar. "Want me to sort him out?"

She looked over at her boyfriend sadly, and shook her head. "I will."

As she fastened the silver chain around her neck, the refraction of light cast amber rays throughout the room, throwing strange shadows on the walls as the crystals reflected the light.

Her gaze drifted onto Allan. Now, she would sort him out.

--------------------------------------------

She marched over, anger resounding in her footsteps. It was her birthday. How dare he?

"What on God's earth are you doing?" she demanded of her drunken boyfriend.

"Amber." His face fell slightly. "Ah"

"Just what are you doing?"

He looked sheepish "Wanna join the harem?"

"No I do not!" she spat angrily, the fire in her eyes directed upon him

"Then……can you get us some beer, we're right out?"

Allan clearly was too drunk to care whether he was hurting her; merely that he was missing out on getting completely pissed.

"Allan, get out now."

"What's the problem?" he slurred "Jus havin' a good time."

"Allan a Dale if you don't leave this minute, I'll kill you."

He turned back to the girl he had been kissing. "Sorry sweetheart. My ex is a harsh bitch."

As he turned around, overcome with anger, she slapped him around the face with all the strength she could muster, tears in her eyes. He staggered backwards, knocked off balance, into the bar.

"Get up you foul, drunk, moronic imbecile!" grabbing him by the shirt, she dragged him to his feet and shoved him in the direction of the exit.

As he stumbled drunkenly in that direction, he raised his eyebrows at the guy by the door. "Someone's in a mood." he murmured, laughing silently to himself.

Unfortunately for him, the guy by the door just happened to be Guy. Who grabbed him by the scruff of the neck, dragged him outside and flung the unfortunate youth into the wall as hard as he possibly could, aiming to cause as much damage as possible.

--------------------------------------------

Guy stood outside, glaring at Allan, as the latter scrambled drunkenly to his feet and ran off.

"Nice punch." The cruel, calculated voice of Edward Vaisey penetrated the small balloon he had contained himself inside. The one person he had been trying to avoid.

Nodding to acknowledge the taller youth, Guy bowed his head, the automatic symbol of submitting to the older boy's rule. He wondered when he had become so weak, to bow down to another person through fear.

"Guy." Vaisey's sneer softened slightly into a cruel laugh. "I have a last proposition for you. One last job, for us as business partners, as friends. Then you can go."

Guy swallowed. His brain mulled over the facts, a little disgusted at him that he was even considering taking part in a deal with this egocentric, dangerous and limitless dictator.

No harm done. One last job. Cash in hand, no arguments and it would be over. He could return to normality. But Vaisey was tricky. He would stop at nothing to have his way. And he was ultimately ruthless. He didn't surely want anything to do with this – did he?

"Sure." He nodded. "One last job." He hesitated before asking, "What is it?"

Vaisey's leer contorted into some form of a twisted, iron-toothed grin. "Last of the Baron's stash. The Black Knights want to do a deal for it. All you do is make the agreement, transfer the cash and the job's done."

Guy looked up nervously. "Cocaine?"

Vaisey nodded, "and harder. Don't tell me my infamous henchman is afraid of a bag of drugs." He sneered.

"I'm not. Where's the transaction?"

"Out back in fifteen minutes."

He gulped, wondering what he had gotten himself into. He couldn't have guessed if he tried.


	24. Shooting

**Chapter 24:**

-----------------------------------------------------------

As he slipped surreptitiously out into the back courtyard later that evening, Vaisey was there waiting for him, accompanied by several burly brutish looking youths, each at least a foot taller and wider than him. Nearly all of them were smoking – and it wasn't tobacco – more likely some illicit substance that had fallen off the back of the black market.

He nodded to acknowledge them, aware that it was far better to be polite towards someone that was that much larger than you. The leader, a huge thick-lipped creature with muscles the size of barrels and tattoos of twisted, horrific shapes streaked over them. He had squint eyes and an off-joint nose, as though someone had broken it once too often.

Guy gulped. "Evening."

Vaisey turned, "Ah Guy, we were wondering when you'd show up. Shall we?"

He turned and disappeared into the shadows of the club, leaving Guy alone with the Black Knights.

The leader loomed over him, blocking out the light. "Right." He grunted. "two hundred for the lot."

Guy shrugged, "Sorry, Vaisey says minimum two fifty."

"Well, what if I don't like Vaisey's offer?"

Guy breathed in, "Well I'll have to take the stock with me then won't I?"

The leader lunged and grabbed the front of his shirt in one fluid movement. "We'll take it at two hundred."

"Well it's not going unless I see two fifty." Guy was almost shaking at the effort it took not to shake, trying to maintain the last amount of courage he had.

"What if I try some manual persuasion?" Guy froze as the leader produced a gun, which was currently aimed at his forehead.

"Hey, you shoot me; there'll be no future transactions. Vaisey doesn't like complications."

"What happens if I don't care?" the leader sneered.

Guy stared down the barrel as the leader lowered it. "Tough nut eh?" the youth sneered. "Well you'll be hearing from us soon, and don't you forget it."

He turned and stalked away, followed by the gang, and Guy let out an internal sigh of relief.

The leader froze, and Guy twisted immediately to face him, expecting an insult or parting shot directed at him or himself.

Instead he got bullets.

-------------------------------------------------------------------

He didn't even know that he'd been hit, until he was knocked backwards by a wave of pain, dropping to his knees as an intense mixture of nausea and dizziness overwhelmed him. He gasped as the breath was forced from his body, and looked down as the world seemed to freeze for a second. Blood poured from the bullet wound as water from a spring, gushing in an endless flow of red from his chest.

He was cold. Numbness seized his fingers as he gazed at the blood dizzily, watching it form a puddle beneath him.

Forcing his heavy head wearily upwards, he stared into the empty gaze of his attacker, holding the glare until his body lost the will to hold him up, collapsing into the pool of his own blood, scarlet, warm, terrifyingly final. He was going to die.

His breath came in ragged gasps, his eyes misting as he watched the world spin.

Suddenly his vision blurred with a glimpse of colour. The fading gaze held that moment as it heard words, speaking, yelling maybe, he couldn't tell. There was definitely someone else there. A saviour. Or another attacker. He recognised the voice somewhere, vaguely, recognised the mannerisms for a second. His curiosity piqued momentarily, before his brain decided that it just couldn't care anymore. He was going to die.

The he heard a dull thud beside him, and the little awareness that he had of being conscious, of being still alive was penetrated by the thought that someone else had joined him on the road to death. Guilt wracked the last ribbons of his heart that still feebly attempted to pump blood around his body. They were dying because of him. Whoever it was, whoever had tried to intervene, was dying too. Because of him. Maybe he deserved to die. He'd done a lot of bad things, and maybe this was just fate's way of bringing comeuppance upon him. But they, whoever _they_ were, didn't.

He forced himself back into the last dregs of consciousness, to maybe help them, if he had the strength, or at least apologise for getting them into this mess, maybe tell them he wasn't worth dying for.

His fading eyes opened slightly, blinking painfully, trying to see through the thin film that coated his eyes, blinding him.

He saw dark hair, familiar face. Someone he was supposed to hate. What was the word? Archenemy. That was it. Moving. Still alive. For the moment.

He gasped for breath as the figure crawled to their knees. They would kill him anyway. They hated him. With reason.

He closed heavy eyelids, fighting to remain conscious, waiting for them to leave him, or else finish the job, heart contracting in fear.

_Just finish it._


	25. Watching

**Chapter 25:**

Will remembered watching, confused from the doorway, half concealed in the corner, as Guy and Vaisey had disappeared out the back, watching the scene suspiciously. As Vaisey left his henchman alone to complete the deal, his intense hatred for the teenager grew.

Drugs. It was a drugs deal. And Vaisey obviously didn't want to get his hands dirty. Leave it to the lesser mortals to organise and then reap the benefits himself.

He remembered watching, as the gang of teenagers, about nineteen years old, and huge, with vile black tattoos patterning vastly muscular arms. They looked like they could kill a man with their bare hands, yet they all carried guns. He felt a shiver run down his spine. He didn't envy Guy, having to complete a deal with those vicious looking brutes breathing down his neck. The negotiations obviously weren't going well.

All that he remembered hearing from around the corner was a sound that would stay with him forever. He recognised the dull click, the soft thud, and his blood ran cold. His brain pieced the missing information together without prompting.

They had guns. Probably fitted with silencers to avoid attracting attention. Far easier, quieter and more deadly.

He took a quick look around the corner, dreading what he saw. Guy's body crumpled on the cobbles, beside the ominous-looking sports bag that he had been carrying. The leader snatched the bag up and turned to go. Guy was completely still, blood draining slowly from his silent body, face screwed up in pain and confusion, eyes clamped tightly shut.

A hundred thoughts hit him at once, gushing like blood through his brain, processing at a million miles an hour. They had tried to kill Guy, if not succeeded. Amber's brother and his own archenemy lay bleeding on the cobbles. He was a human being at the end of the day. Those responsible were leaving. Running away from the scene. He had to stop them.

Knowing it was the worst possible thing he could do, but the only real option, he yelled at their retreating backs.

The gang stopped in their tracks. Cursing his stupidity and his own tendency and desire for heroics, he gulped as the youths twice his size turned around to face him. He felt every inch of him shaking, and tried desperately to hold himself rigid, so that they wouldn't know just how scared he really was.

He faced the leader squarely, trying to look braver and taller than he felt. Dilated pupils, wide and insane stared at him. His words froze Will to the marrow. A dense, low growl escaped the youth's tight-lipped silence. Words, barely intelligible, yet full of meaning.

"No witnesses."

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Then all he knew was lying face down on the ground, trying to remember if he had ever felt pain like that before. All he knew, was that he was bleeding. A lot.

He put a hand to his chest, the fingers coming away blood-drenched and sticky. Mind swimming, he blinked, putting pressure on the wound, causing himself pain to keep awake.

Holding the bullet wound with one hand, he inched slowly, gradually into a sitting position beside his archenemy's still body.

As he touched the boy's shoulder, the eyes flickered open, uneven, exhausted, pain-filled.

Guy recoiled, something vaguely connected to fear evident in his eyes. Waiting for something to happen.

"I'm sorry." Guy choked hoarsely, taking both Will and himself by surprise.

Will looked confused. "What for?"

"For.." he paused to gasp for breath, "For what I've done to you and Marian…… this year."

"It's okay."

"No. It's not. I really am sorry. I just… wanted to tell you…in case…"

"Guy, it's fine."

Will twisted back around, ignoring the agony that rippled through his chest as he did so, to grab his jacket, trying to staunch the blood, stop his archenemy turned mutual friend from bleeding to death.

"Will…you're bleeding." Guy whispered, his voice fading as his strength dropped with the blood loss.

Will stared back, holding the gaze. "I know."

"Don't…… don't die…because of me." Fear seized Guy's voice, choking him as blood bubbled in his throat.

"I chose to come out here and act the hero. I'll take the consequences of my actions. It's not your fault. I made this decision."

Guy nodded tiredly. Will watched with a stab of terror as the eyes flickered closed, heavy, tired. He reached out with gradually numbing fingers to shake the shoulder, provoke a reaction from the still, unmoving form.

"Guy. Guy?" His heart stopped as the body fell silent, unmoving, maybe not even breathing.

As the first droplets of rain began to fall, he felt the cold water penetrate his soul, and for the first time since his mother died, he was terrified.

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The rain pattered down, soft at first, then harder and harder, as if the sky was crying, shedding endless teardrops for them, as though its tears would wash away the blood, the pain, the sorrow, and start afresh.

Rain dribbled down his face, trickling over his skin, soaking into his bones. It was cool and refreshing, like water to a parched traveller, lost in the desert.

He felt the agony anew as more blood was pumped from his body in waves as his own heart forced the crimson fluid from his body. It was a steady, constant rhythm, like the regular patter of raindrops.

It was peaceful, calming.

Maybe dying wasn't so bad.

He didn't hear the shriek as Amber found him crumpled in a pool of blood, beside his enemy turned brother in their agony. He didn't feel her tears as they dipped onto his face, hot and salty s she cried, phoning for the ambulance. He could only feel her hand clutching his, tightly clinging onto him, as though if she held onto him hard enough, he wouldn't disappear.

He could see nothing but the rain, as it washed away death, pain and grief; feel the rain as it trickled over his skin; hear the rain as it pattered down in a steady rhythm in parallel with his own heartbeat.

And when darkness claimed him, he went willingly.

------------------------------------------------------------


	26. Ending

**Chapter 26:**

For her, the world was upended, turned on its head, swirling in an endless whirlwind of colour and time.

Seeing her brother and her closest friend slumped lifeless, bleeding, drowning in a vast ocean of blood, tears cascading down her cheeks, mingling with the rainfall as it soaked her to the skin.

She had dropped to her knees, in the rivulets of blood, not caring that it would ruin her clothes, only caring that it would take the two people she cared most about in the world.

The waiting was the worst, waiting for the ambulance to come. Every minute that passed, another mass of blood was lost, coating her hands, her arms as she tried desperately to staunch the blood-flow.

Her tears mingled with the blood, a river of salt and crimson fluid coagulating in the rainfall, sweeping the cobbles in a wave of scarlet.

An eternity of numbness seized her in a vice-like grip, choking her, as more blood flowed around her in a lake, till she though she would drown, another death amongst the carnage of war.

A life age seemed to pass as the ambulance arrived, not one, but two, to take them away, and she vaguely remembered begging to come too, and being guided into the ambulance beside one of the two people she cared about most in the world.

All she saw was the river, the river of blood that drowned the small courtyard, bathed in crimson tears; a river of death.

--------------------------------------------------

After that, she didn't remember very much else; just the scarlet blood that stained her vision, whiting out everything else, till she could only see the blood, only feel it drumming in her head, only hear it vibrating, thudding against her ear drums.

Blind to everything else, she barely felt herself moving, running, hand guided by the hand of someone she had been clutching tightly for as long as she could remember, joined by the blood that coated them both.

She felt her hands ripped away from theirs as someone pulled her away, escorting her to some other far off place. She didn't care any more. The moment the link was broken, she felt empty, separated and utterly detached. She didn't feel like herself anymore. She was floating somewhere in the midst of the oblivion surrounding her, numb and frozen to the world around her.

There was someone talking to her, but she couldn't hear them, or see them. She knew they were there, felt their presence numbly, distant, far away.

As the blackness of oblivion took her, her soul reached out to her brother and Will and begged them not to leave her alone in the dark.

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Marian instantly knew there was something wrong, the moment she saw the open door. She'd been searching for Will, and Amber for some time – and no-one would leave a door open in the pouring rain on purpose.

Then she'd seen the blood. Pools and pools of it. Crimson, blood-slicked cobbles, pounded by the rain. The downpour had and was doing little to wash away the seeping scarlet fluid, save only to multiply it and dilute it by a thousand times. And now the courtyard was flooded in watery red liquid.

She had never thought herself as squeamish – she had dissected things in biology – but nothing could have prepared her for that.

Bile rose in her throat, burning her tongue as nausea hit her like a blow and she retched; emptying her stomach as the gruesome scene turned it.

Something horrible had happened here.

Closing her eyes, she waded through the shallow flood of crimson, towards a small dark object that caught her eyes amongst the carnage before her. She crouched, bending to just above the surface of the small lake, extending long fingers before her.

With a shiver of disgust and revulsion, she lowered her fingers into the scarlet water to find the small silvery glint she had seen from the doorway. Her fingers curled around the curved, metallic solidity of the glint.

A small chill travelled down her spine like a spark. It was a bullet.

Someone had been shot at.

And by the looks of the blood, they were dead. Or else there were two.

And it could just as easily be her best friend that had somehow been caught up in this small but horrific act of violence.

Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes. She brushed them away. Crying wouldn't help anyone. It might not even be him.

But it was very likely.

She had to do something.

But first, she had to empty out the party and get everyone out. Then she could organise everything and work out just what was going on.

She scrambled awkwardly to her feet amongst the bloody water and set off back inside.

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	27. Losing & Gaining

Thanks to all my patient reviewers, especially **iheartlife89** and **HighPriestessOfTheDreamWorld** for their lovely comments. Here's the next chapter. Please R&R.

Oooooh - and can anyone think of a suggestion for a title of this story - its still nameless.

**THANK YOU EVERBODY!!!!**

**-------------X-----------------**

**Chapter 27:**

As the two stretchers were whisked away beyond her reach, the tight hold she'd had on Will's hand was torn from her grasp. The comforting solidity, the only sign she had that he was still alive, was gone, ripped from her.

Now she was lost, numb, unreachable, standing empty in the middle of the hospital, utterly, utterly lost, uncaring about anything but the two people just beyond her reach, their fates beyond her control, taken from her by cruel hands.

A sea of voices and people consumed her, strangling her, drowning her in a wave of incomprehensible sound and movement she couldn't possibly comprehend.

She was lost, terribly, horribly lost in this maze of confusion, deafness and unquenchable, boundless fear that swallowed her whole.

A warm hand gripped her arm, sending her spinning, reeling her back to reality. It was one of the paramedics from the ambulance.

"You alright love?"

She nodded shakily. "I……Yes. Fine."

"They've taken your brother and your friend up to theatre now. I'll show you where it is, for when they come out, if you like."

She nodded, grateful that he had said _when_, rather than _if_. She couldn't face that alternative right now. It wasn't an option. They had to survive. Both of them.

"You sure you're alright, love? You're as white as chalk. I need to know if you're gonna pass out on me."

She swallowed, shaking her head. "I'm fine."

She had no recollection of the journey to the deserted corridor that would spell life or death for her brother and Will. All she remembered was walking, walking for an unending eternity in one direction, passing doors, people, more doors, more people, until at last the paramedic left her in an empty, foreboding, dimly lit passage, devoid of life and humanity.

She settled down to wait; the last moments of her time with the two people she cared most about in the world flashing before her eyes in broken pieces.

--------------------------------------------------------

A noise at the end of the deserted corridor jerked her back to reality, and suddenly she was alert, every fibre of her being balancing on the knife edge again. Her heart nearly stopped as the doors opened.

The air left her body in a rush as one of the trolleys was wheeled through the open doors. Her heart nearly stopped.

Relief coursed through her as she saw the steady rhythm of breathing.

Her vision blurred. It was Will. One of them was safe.

The sheer relief made her light-headed. Dizziness rippled through her and she clutched onto the chair for support as she tried to stand.

The nurse grabbed her arm as she swayed.

"You're not going to do him any good if you pass out, you know."

The girl smiled tiredly at her. "Let me in and I'll sit down."

"You should get some rest."

"I won't be able to sleep until I know what's going on with the two of them."

The nurse rolled her eyes. "Go on then. The surgery was a success, by the way."

"Good."

"Let me know if you need anything."

"I will."

She pushed open the door. Will was still unconscious, eyelids fluttering slightly, face still and peaceful. In sleep, he looked younger, less troubled and less burdened by the world's cares.

She settled into the bedside chair, resting her hand on the starched white sheet that blanketed him, his pale skin almost blending with his cover.

Her heart clenched as Guy flitted across her mind; he had not yet returned from surgery – there could have been complications……or anything could have happened.

She shook her head, not wanting to focus on that.

Her eyes started to drift, heavy and weighted. She forced them open again, desperate not to sleep until she knew that both Will and Guy had pulled through and were out of danger.

Seconds turned to minutes. Minutes seemed to last a millennia, each second taking a life's breadth to complete. She was trapped in the endless void between time itself. No time could pass. Each second took forever and was gone in the time it took to blink.

She was sitting there, watching Will breathe, waiting for time to run its course, to run itself out, for everything to happen and pass before her eyes, for life to fast-forward and rewind so that she was in control.

Blurs of colour passed unheeded before her eyes as she stared into nothingness, into her past and into the future she did not want to imagine. Images flashed through her mind; waves of scarlet blood, childhood memories, Guy and Will lying there, so still, lives bleeding away, bodies in a morgue, graves, tombstones, she could see the writing there, and eternal loneliness eating away at her, oblivion, pain, anguish……_SHUT UP!!!!!!_

She wrenched her mind away, tearing it from her subconscious and into the present, nails biting into her skin, teeth biting her lip, eyes clenched shut.

Blood dribbled from the tear in her lip as she bit down on it. It tasted salty, metallic, warm on her tongue, the coppery tang tainting her saliva, her throat, jerking her into awareness.

Gasping for breath, she surfaced from the lake of terror that threatened to drown her, head throbbing under the weight of the images suffocating her brain. She needled her forehead with cold fingers.

It was all getting to her. She needed to calm down.

"Amber…" Will's voice, scarcely more than a croak, bit into her thoughts, forcing her to return to the present.

She opened her eyes.

Her hands were balled into tight fists, nails gouging into her hands, blood dripping steadily down her wrists. One hand rested on the starched sheet.

Will's hand lay on top of it, their skin gently touching, just enough to break her from the trance.

She looked up at him, letting her eyes focus on him from where they had stared blindly at the wall.

She opened her mouth to say something, anything; but before she could, a nurse burst into the room, face urgent and drawn.

Amber turned mechanically, stiffly. She didn't want to hear this. The truth was too painful.

"Is he……Is he…" She couldn't bring herself to say the words.

"You have to come now. I'll explain as we go."

She followed, coercing leaden limbs into running after the nurse who was already almost sprinting.

"What's happened?" She didn't want to know, but she had to know.

"There were complications in surgery." The young man breathed. Amber swallowed as her heart leapt into her throat.

"He won't survive without an emergency blood transfusion. The problem is, he has a rare blood type and we simply don't have enough at the hospital. We haven't got time to test your blood, but are you willing to give a direct transfusion to your brother?"

"What if I'm a different blood type?"

The man looked grim. "Then it's likely he'll die. But if he doesn't get a transfusion, then it will happen anyway."

"Then do it."

He nodded, leading her into the theatre. He heart thudded painfully as she saw her brother's still form.

Guy's body, torso exposed on the gurney, was pale and ashen grey, blood loss decreasing his circulation.

Dark hair covered his eyes, contrasting horribly with his bloodless skin.

Ugly black thread protruded neatly in a row of stitches from his chest along a slit; where the bullet had been and was removed.

She sat down in the chair provided, closing her eyes as a needle pierced her skin and a nauseous feeling rippled through her as a tube was inserted into her vein.

Morbid fascination rippled through her; the desire to see the blood being drawn from her body, wondering whether it must have felt like this to have blood seeping from your body.

She opened her eyes, watching disgustedly yet fascinated at how the crimson fluid travelled down the tube and into her brother's arm.

It took less than five minutes to take two pints of blood, before the surgeon removed the transfusion tube, but it seemed like forever, watching her own blood leaching from her body and into another's.

He cleaned the incision and applied a sterile dressing, but she barely noticed as light-headedness once again took her, and the sense of dizziness heightened from the blood loss.

She blinked as her eyelids threatened to shut.

"Is he going to be okay?" She asked the surgeon drowsily.

"We don't know. I need to test a sample of your blood now to see if it is compatible with his, and if it is, he should recover fully, unless he contracts an infection."

Her eyes gave up the battle to stay awake, rolling into the back of her head as she succumbed to unconsciousness.


	28. Visiting

**Chapter 28:**

Will awoke; stomach throbbing and oddly tight; to see a small, blood-soaked body huddled in the chair beside his bed.

It was Amber. But it wasn't her, in a sense. Her eyes stared into nothingness, empty shells gazing bleakly into somewhere else, somewhere he couldn't see.

Then she'd stiffened, the hand that rested beside him on the bed balled into a tight fist. He could read the tension in her jaw, in her shoulders, in the way she held herself.

Something was wrong. It frightened him to see her like that.

Awkwardly, he tried to shuffle into a sitting position, but a stabbing pain tore through his abdomen, forcing him back down. Clumsily, he twisted over slowly, trying not to disturb the closed wound on his stomach.

His movements did not rouse the still figure.

Stiffly, he reached out a hand, laying it on top of hers. She didn't move or even respond.

He'd tried to say her name, but it came out as more of a whisper. He tried again, louder.

The vibrations tore at his dry throat, but seemed to have some effect on her. The muscles relaxed slightly, but now she was shaking uncontrollably, skin milk white and trembling.

He curled his fingers around her hand, feeling a crimson dampness; where her nails had cut into her palms; trickle over his fingers.

Slowly, the shaking had subsided, bit by bit, and she seemed to come to awareness, eyes wide and dilated.

Her eyes grazed his, and she seemed to be about to say something when the nurse had burst in.

Cold fear had gripped his heart. Guy had once been his enemy. Now he cared for him as if he were a friend. If they survived this, Guy would be able to start again, and Will was willing to bridge all their differences and be friends.

It had taken his old enemy a lot of courage to swallow his pride and apologise. He knew Guy cared deeply for Marian, and letting her go would have hurt him desperately, but he had done it, and had been angrily rebuffed, a poor reward for his efforts.

Although he knew Marian had every right to be angry, there was a small part of him that was irritated by her intolerance and incapability to forgive.

Now everything he and Guy had worked for would be wasted.

He had waited as Amber was led from the room, expecting her to come back devastated and broken. But she hadn't. She hadn't returned at all.

He didn't know whether this was good or bad.

Instead, he allowed sleep to overpower him again, and slipped back into the delicious oblivion.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

Amber woke up in a warm chair beside her brother's bed, head resting on the bed beside him, the starched sheets pressed against her cheek.

Sleepily, she raised her head, wondering how long she'd been asleep. Stiffness seized her limbs, the dried blood tightening the skin so that when she shifted to move, cracks swept through the layer of blood daubed crudely over her, like old water paints smeared over her flesh by an amateur artist.

Her gaze fell on Guy and everything that had happened came rushing back to her. The blood must have taken. He was alive.

His skin was no longer that awful ashen grey, blood drained and faded. He was pale, but not dangerously so.

She could see the bullet wound, now incision; tightly stitched up, the clear thread protruding through the hospital gown. It was smaller than it had been, no longer the deep, gaping gash; the skin forced together, the rib wired to stop it cracking further.

The sunlight filtered through the blind, illuminating his face in a burst of warm light that seemed to soak into him like water. Her fingers brushed her brothers, but he didn't move; didn't stir. His breathing was steady; the machine mechanically measuring heartbeat pulsed regularly, in rhythm.

She sat there for what seemed like an age, enjoying the warm sunshine on her skin, the comforting solidity of her brother's hand, the reassuring buzz and murmur of the machines behind her that told her he was still alive.

After a while, her conscience pricked a little, telling her that she was neglecting Will, as no-one else knew he was here, and she'd left him on his own.

He'd probably want her to phone Saffi.

Relinquishing her hold on her brother's hand, she staggered to her feet, tiptoeing out of the door.

"I'll be back." She whispered.


	29. Phoning

**Chapter 29:**

From the payphones outside the hospital she'd managed to phone Saffi, who deserved to know what was going on; being Will's girlfriend. Temptation clouded her mind as whether to call Marian, but to be honest, the girl hated her and would most likely try to pin the blame on her.

Now all she had to do was wait for Saffi. Patience wasn't one of her finest virtues, and she was bouncing on the balls of her feet; agitated, nervous and worried.

Every moment spent out here was another moment she was apart from her brother and Will, another moment she spent agonizing over their wellbeing.

Finally, a taxi drew up outside Accident & Emergency, and a flustered, windswept Saffi flew out, almost knocking her over.

"How is he?" she asked urgently.

"Awake. They took him into theatre a couple of hours ago and patched him up. He should be fine."

She sighed in relief. "Thank God." She paused, "Will they let me see him?"

"I think so. Seeing you'll probably cheer him up as well. Come on."

She led Saffi towards Will's room and escorted her to the door.

The girl herself looked nervous, worried and excited all at once. Amber smiled. She had forgotten what it was like to be in love. For a brief moment she was jolted back to… - No. Those memories were barred and locked. She didn't want to see them.

"Go on." She nodded towards the door, the smile hastily replaced on her face.

Saffi smiled nervously, her cheeks flushing as she stepped inside. For a second, she paused, and looked back. "Thank-you. Thank-you for everything."

Then she disappeared shyly into the room.

Amber watched briefly from the window, as expressions of pure delight lit up the faces of both young people, enjoying the fleeting flicker of elation that she had finally done something useful. Then, as suddenly as it had arrived, the moment passed, and she was standing outside again, watching the world pass by without her.

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Will looked up as the door creaked open, expecting Amber, or a nurse or someone. But as he glanced towards the door, time seemed to stop. It was Saffi.

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This time, when she entered Guy's room, her brother was no longer unconscious. The effects of the anaesthetizer were gradually fading. He wasn't asleep, but increasingly aware of his surroundings, although not fully awake.

Curling into the same chair once more, she watched slowly as he stirred, slipping her hand into his as he struggled to regain consciousness.

His eyes flickered open; once, twice. Heavy eyelids dipped over wide grey eyes, so much like her own. Guy murmured something intangible; his fingers gripping hers as the pain came soaring back from the oblivion it had been banished to in his unconsciousness.

His eyes focused on her, unblinking, unwavering.

She felt a smile rise, stinging her lip where she'd bitten it.

"Hey." Guy's voice was barely more than a whisper, but she heard it clearly.

"You're a fool, you know that?" she told him softly.

His features broke into a grin. "That's me."

"Did you really think Vaisey was just going to let you go? He's evil."

"I guess I know that now."

His face contorted as he remembered urgently, "How's Will? He's not… He didn't…" Guy's voice trailed off.

"He's fine. Better than you anyway."

Guy's face relaxed visibly. "Good. I don't think I could of…Well…it was all my fault really."

Guilt marred his gaze and she noticed his fists clenched unconsciously at his sides.

She sighed. "It's not your fault. You couldn't foresee that Vaisey was going to try and kill you. There was nothing you could have done."

"I should have expected it. I should've know he wouldn't have backed down without a fight."

She laid her other hand on top of his. "Listen to me. It wasn't your fault. Vaisey is evil, and so were those morons he hired to kill you. You were alone and unarmed and there was absolutely nothing you could have done."

Guy looked doubtful.

"I think you need to talk to Will and sort this out." She suggested. "I'm not going to let you beat yourself up about this."

"Okay." He sighed.

"I'm just glad that the two of you are alright. You were extremely lucky."

"I guess."

"I'm going to get changed in a minute because I don't fancy being covered in blood for very much longer, kay?"

"Okay."

Amber clambered to her feet, feeling the dried blood peel on her skin, a shiver of disgust rippling through her as she left the room.

---------------------------------------------------

Will's heart leapt as Saffi literally threw herself at him from across the room. Ignoring the numbed protests of his stomach, he wrapped his arms tight around her.

"Do you look for trouble, or does it just follow you around?" she accused playfully.

"If I don't, it'll find me anyway. What's the use in waiting around?" he grinned.

"If you do anything as stupid as that again, I'll kill you myself."

"Well next time I'll wear a bullet proof vest."

"I'm being serious now Will."

Will stopped abruptly as the teasing tone in Saffi's voice evaporated like water.

"I don't want to lose you." She murmured in his ear.

"I'm not going anywhere."

"You know what I mean."

He sighed. "Look, I'm sorry. But if I hadn't done it, then Guy would have died."

"I know. I just want you to be more careful."

"I will be. Promise." He hugged her tighter. "I love you."

"I love you too."

-------------------------------------------------

A while later, the door squeaked open as a porter wheeled Guy into the room, and Saffi excused herself to get a drink so that the two could talk in private.

The two former archenemies regarded each other for a moment before Will began to laugh, or as near to laughing as he could without disturbing his bullet wound.

Guy looked bewildered, before succumbing to a fit of laughter.

"What," he asked, when he'd managed to recover enough so as to breathe, "was funny?"

Will shrugged. "I don't know."

An awkward silence drifted down once more. Guy coughed uncomfortably.

"Why did you help me?" he asked quietly.

"I would have done it for anyone."

"I didn't deserve it." He murmured.

"Why not?"

"What I've done this year. Everything. You should have just left me."

"You tried to change. You apologised to Marian. And what about Amber? Your sister. She didn't deserve to lose her brother, not matter what you'd done."

Guy bowed his head. "She'd do better without me."

"No she wouldn't. She needs you. You're the only stability she's got at the moment."

Guy rested his head in his hands. "You shouldn't have risked your life. I'm not worth it."

"I believe in second chances. Stop beating yourself up about it. We're both alive. Forget about it."

Will held out his hand.

Guy looked up at him, taking the hand. "Friends?"

"Friends."

A small smile crossed Guy's tense features. "Thanks."

"Don't worry about it."

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Once Guy had left, Saffi returned with a drink, huddling up beside him on the bed, careful to mind the stitches on his left side. They lay there together, not talking; content simply to be in each other's presence, the physical contact comforting and reassuring.

"So how did Amber end up here?" Saffi asked, breaking the peaceful silence.

"We were at her birthday party. Guy decided to get himself carved up by a gang of thugs-"

"-and you decided to play the hero and got carved up too." Saffi finished. "That sounds just like you."

Will grinned at her sheepishly. "Anyway, she kind of found us two minutes later and had to call an ambulance."

"Good thing she's not squeamish." Saffi murmured.

"Yeah, it was a complete bloodbath. You should've seen it."

"Nice. She just looked really upset when I saw her earlier."

"She ditched her boyfriend earlier. He was getting it on with some girls at her birthday party."

Saffi sighed. "That's cruel."

"Yeah but her brother's gonna kill him when he gets out of here, so Allan'd better run."

She laughed.

"That was her brother? The guy you were talking to earlier?"

"Yeah. Why?"

Saffi shrugged. "They just don't look very alike, that's all."

Warm silence filled the air as tendrils of lights curled in, dispersing through the blinds and into the room. She rested her head on his good side, relaxing against him, eyelids heavy.

Will lay back on the pillows, feeling at peace for the first time since he had arrived in the hospital, the pain in his chest fading to a dull throb as the pain killers took effect. Saffi was there, he was alive, and for once in a very long while, he felt safe.

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	30. Tumbling

**Hey I'm back with your next chapter. Thanks to everbody, especially to Arria Rose, HighPriestessOfTheDreamworld and iheartlife89; my amazing reviewers. xxx **

**Please R&R. **

**Chapter 30:**

Now she had finally changed out of the blood-soaked clothes she had arrived in, Amber felt a little more relaxed as she headed back to Will's room.

Saffi was there with him. They both looked animated and happy. Complete. At first it sent a wave of contentment down her spine, but as she watched, she could no longer bring herself to go in.

Watching them together made her feel lonely. Her place had been filled.

She watched from the outside, feeling unwanted and spare. They didn't need her anymore. She felt like an outsider, and it hurt to know that she still didn't fit in, still wasn't wanted, even after all this time. The whole world was a jigsaw; with space enough for one who could fit the desired, twisted shape. And the piece she fitted was the wrong shape; it was deformed and oddly curved, with jutting faults; and the one she needed to fit into was a perfect circle.

It was time to seep back into the shadows and hide in the darkness she had known for so long. Where she belonged. Out of sight and out of mind. Away from the loneliness, frustration, isolation.

Back in the emptiness of her own world. Back to the endless fantasies that filled the place of reality, the things she knew would never happen.

Back to the outside, the cold, where it was always winter, never changing.

Back to the blank, sterile wall that cushioned her brain as she shut out the loneliness that tore at her heart.

Back to the only place she would ever fit in.

Nowhere.

She hadn't realised she was walking, now running, running as fast as she could, to escape reality, and re-enter the dream-world, where she could be happy and wanted, where she could be loved and appreciated. Even if it wasn't real.

Reality wasn't like her dreams. It hadn't been worth venturing out of the hard shell she existed in. It was hard and bitter and cruel.

Her feet were towing her, taking her out of the hospital, taking her away. She slowed, catching her breath and wondered why her subconscious had brought her this far, why it had led her unconsciously to the bridge.

She gazed softly into the cool, clear water of the river that cascaded past, the fluid liquid diamond in the sunlight. The stonework of the bridge was solid, solid and hard beneath her fingertips as she traced the age-old carvings that the rock bore.

She watched as the river rushed past below at a terrific speed, foaming and hissing over the rapids. Temptation seized her suddenly. It would be so easy.

For a minute, a heartbeat, her destiny was in her own hands. She was in control. She could jump, or she could stop being a maniac, go back home and return to the invisible life she had led before.

Never.

She clambered onto the wall, swinging her legs over the side as she watched the water flow, effortlessly down the valley.

An end. Or a beginning. Death was just the next big adventure. Everlasting peace in death's embrace, or new life, either sounded better than the lonely existence she had now.

She could see Liam again. The one person who had fully understood her. He had left her too. Took his own life. Hung himself.

For the first time since he had died, she allowed herself to seep back into the painful memories of his existence. She could remember the warm sun on her skin, the smooth bark of the oak tree they had sat against, the sweet scent of freshly harvested hay drifting on the cool breeze, the soft, gentle bliss of his skin on hers.

For the first time since he died, she dared to open the envelope of memories she had kept with her since that terrible day. To be parted from them would be to be parted from him. The photos were perfect. Perfect love entwined forever. But forever cut short.

Curly brown chestnut hair. Emerald eyes. The small infectious smile he saved only for her. She smiled at the memory, but inwardly, her heart was breaking.

She sighed; making no move to wipe away the tears that streamed down her cheeks as the memories came flooding back. If only it had been different.

Her resolve strengthened. It would be different. She could make it different. She could make an escape. And they would be together again, not hindered by the fragile tombs carved of flesh that separated their souls. It only took one burst of courage to do that. She could do it.

She had to.

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She swallowed, bent over the drop. She had to use the last reserves of courage buried deep within her heart. She had to do this, watch it. She had made this decision and she would follow it through.

She forced herself to open her eyes, to face her death head on. The water rushed below her, swirling and foaming, ready to swallow her.

She stood up, shaking, teetering on the edge, steeling herself to do it, to throw herself off.

She pulled out the picture, staring into his eyes once more. They would be together again. She could be strong for him, for them. In death they would be reunited.

A deathly calm stilled her nerves, calming her. She gazed out on her death and looked it square in the face. She would pass without fear, or anguish, or misery.

Stowing the envelope securely in her pocket, she zipped it up. And walked out to meet death.

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Will was asleep. He knew the familiar haze and unbreakable state that usually surrounded his dreams and this was like every other dream. It wasn't the familiar nightmare that sometimes visited him, and it wasn't blank from exhaustion.

It was a dream like any other. Except it had a strange sense of reality, even though he was asleep.

A girl stood there, face hazy, barely distinguishable, but with a bleak, desolate sense of familiarity. She stood on the bridge, looking out on the swirling waters squarely, no fear in wide, dilated eyes.

He watched in horror as she stepped from the wall, as if descending steps, as calmly as if she was walking home. A strange aura of happiness and finality illuminated her face, with eyes wide open as she plummeted down, no trace of fear set in lonely features.

Down and down and down she tumbled, never the expression nor the calm exterior cracking as she fell, where any normal person would have broken; screaming, or else betraying some sign of fear.

She crumpled into the water almost elegantly, face tightly concentrated and calm as she sliced through the icy fluid, slamming into the bottom of the river bed.

The currents found the battered body, sucking it towards the surface with gently hands, as though it understood the loneliness and desolation that had destroyed her. Lifeless, the body drifted, comatose or dead.

Her hair drifted eerily, cast out around her head like a halo, emphasizing the pale skin and wide grey eyes.

The eyes, ice grey, stared into an infinity none could penetrate but the dead, wide and deep, even in their comatose state. She could see things that no other could, in rapture as she gazed into another world.

He could have imagined it, but for a fleeting second, he could have sworn he saw a flicker of a smile grace the fading features.

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	31. Drowning

**Hello again. I have only just noticed the startling fact that I enjoy drowning my characters. If this happens again without me noticing, feel free to scream**

**YOU'RE DROWNING THEM AGAIN!! (and tap on the screen rather loudly!!)**

**Anyways, after that small diversion, here's the next chapter. PLease R& R and thanks again to my lovely reviewers.**

**Chapter 31:**

She was floating; floating in a place between life and death, wanting to live and wanting to die, no longer caring whichever took her. The endless torture was unbearable. Sitting in oblivion, unendingly, watching her life, her mistakes, her choices flash before her mind in an unerringly painful wave, was no less than agony.

She was floating; floating face down in the water of the river, waiting for her life to bleed away, too weak to tilt her head towards the air, or even want to.

The current flipped her, sending dull agony roaring through her, which her battered body did not notice or care for. She was numb, watching her life fade away, watching the water, watching the world slowly grey and shrivel beyond her gaze.

Her head was forced upwards by the upthrusting current, cold air stinging a face that was too numb and absent to care. Air rushed around her, but the lungs were too weak to breathe, to take in air.

Last wisps of oxygen were driven from water and exhaustion sodden lungs.

The last moments passed before weary eyes that watched the blue, blue sky with increasingly fading clarity.

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He'd been sitting there, enjoying the early morning sun that had made a rare appearance amongst the typical English weather that had drowned the town recently. The river was cool, a welcome relief to the sun's glowing warmth.

And then he'd seen something rather unexpected.

There was something floating in the water. At first, his eyes had taken it to be a log, or something, but as it got nearer, he'd quickly realised that there was a body in the water.

A girl. Floating.

Her skin was pale as milk, blonde hair floating around her head in soft tendrils as the current whipped it. Her head was arched limply to one side, half-submerged in the water. She wasn't breathing.

Was she dead? Incredulous horror sparked in his heart. If she wasn't dead, she soon would be. The current was slowly claiming the still body, sucking it further and further down the river.

The eyelids flickered slightly. Not dead. Urgency flooded his brain. By the time he called the emergency services, she could be gone, in both senses.

There was only one alternative. He pulled off his trainers and jacket, warily eyeing up the deepness of the water. No time for that.

He slid into the cool water, feet touching the silt bottom.

The current was weak, but had a slight pull that dragged the body just slightly out of his reach.

Cursing the river, he kicked off from the bottom, swimming towards the centre. It was relatively shallow. His hands reached out, closing around the girl's wrist.

He pulled the body closer, aided by the weightless effect of the water, locking his arms around the unmoving body.

The eyelids flickered slightly again, giving him a glimpse of wide, ice-grey eyes, unfocused and tired.

He looked back towards the bank. A passer-by was watching nervously from the bank, talking urgently on a mobile phone. Phoning for an ambulance, he guessed.

The river became shallower and he could wade towards the shore.

He slid an arm behind the girl's back, and another under her legs, lifting her into the air as he clambered onto the bank.

The man on the shoreline rushed over as he laid the girl on the grass.

"Is she breathing?"

"I don't know."

She didn't seem to be. He reached two fingers to the side of her neck, feeling relief wash over him as a weak, uneven pulse throbbed against his skin.

"I can feel a pulse, so she must be."

The man nodded. "Good."

"Did you call an ambulance?"

He nodded. "They'll be here in two minutes. The hospital's just round the corner."

Shivering slightly in the warm sunlight, he sat down next to the still body, watching carefully for the chest rising and falling.

Sirens sounded in the distance. The ambulance was coming.

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	32. Discovering

**And we come to the next chapter. Woo! Thank-you -Arria Rose- for giving me a scream there! Just what I needed. Thanks also to iheartlife89 and my other lovely reviewers. I haven't actually mastered the art of killing any of my characters yet, but I'll try not to drown anyone else too soon.**

**It is somewhat addictive though. **

**I'll introduce my new OC in a minute. I do like him (quite a lot). I was going to do a Will/Amber or Will/Marian originally but kinda went for the traditional option. This is where the OC/OC comes in because I didn't actually mean for her to ditch Allan - my characters have a mind of their own. It can be rather annoying. We have a lot of arguments. **

**Anyhow, here's the next chapter before I ramble too far away. Please R&R my lovely people.**

**Chapter 32:**

The ambulance screeched to a halt only metres from them. Neon yellow and green-clad paramedics were there in seconds.

"What's your name, son?"

"Matt."

"Do you have any idea what happened?"

"No, I just found her in the water."

The elder paramedic nodded grimly, bending over the girl as the other attached an oxygen mask to the limp form, helping him to manoeuvre the slim form onto a spinal board.

"She could have spinal injuries, we don't know until she wakes up or gets an X-Ray."

"Can I come?"

"Technically, you're not supposed to, but I can probably make an allowance."

"Thanks."

Matt clambered into the ambulance beside the paramedic as the doors were fastened.

"So, do you know what could have happened to her?"

The senior paramedic shook his head. "from her injuries, I would suggest an impact of some kind. Falling from a height or an accident. Anything really."

"Could she have fallen from the bridge? It's upstream."

"Fallen?" the man asked, "Or jumped?"

"Either."

"It's possible."

Matt swallowed. What could drive a person to take their own life? How could you throw yourself off a bridge? He would never be able to do it, however desperate he got.

You'd have to be really, really desperate to try to end your life.

Unconsciously, he gripped the girl's hand tighter in his. How desperate must she have been to have thrown herself from a bridge with a 100ft drop? Compassion blossomed in his heart.

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Guy reclined stiffly on the bed, resting on his good side. The talk with Will had drained him; but healed his conscience.

Despite the fact that he had a large hole in the centre of his chest, held together only by wire, that hurt a fair bit; he felt more alive and happy than he had done in years.

And when his sister came back, it would complete the warm, euphoric feeling that circulated through his blood like raw heat.

Everything would be like it was meant to be. He could start again. From the very beginning.

He found himself drifting into a daydream, something that he'd never allowed himself to do before. Dreams; previously; had been for the weak; now, they were a new and fascinating experience, exploring the extent of his restrained imagination.

His eyes had drooped shut, sinking into the warmth and comfort of his own world, when the doors were flung open – and Marian burst in, looking slightly dishevelled and tear-streaked.

"Marian." He felt a short tinge of pleasure ripple up his spine. "What are you doing here?"

Out of breath, it took her several seconds to catch her breath.

"Marian? Are you alright?" Concern streaked through his veins like ice.

"Guy." She gasped. "It's…it's your sister. Amber."

Fear convulsed through him.

"What's happened?"

"I…You have to come. Now." She breathed urgently, grabbing his arm, steering him towards the wheelchair. "Get in." she murmured, struggling for breath.

"No, I'm fine. I'll walk."

"Guy, just get in. It'll be faster and I don't think I can take any more bodies today." She sounded close to tears, and Guy figured it would be easier just to co-operate. There were greater things at stake today than his pride.

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"They think she tried…" Marian faltered. She took a deep breath. "They think she'd tried to kill herself."

Pure ice flooded through Guy's veins, stopping time, stopping the world, stopping his heartbeat, his thoughts, his mind; Everything.

"Is she…" He couldn't bring himself to say it. "Is she…dead?"

Marian shook her head and relief erupted in his mind, but the look she gave him silenced his mental celebrations.

"No. But she's in a coma. They don't know whether she'll wake up." She hated to be the one who had to tell him that, and the look on his face was heartbreaking.

"I'm really sorry." She whispered.

He looked up at her, tears flooding wide eyes; that in that moment looked startlingly like his sister's. "Me too."

She opened the door, wheeling the chair through, and he closed his eyes as tears poured down his cheeks. He hadn't cried in eight years. Now everything was falling down about his ears and there was nothing else left to do but that.

His sister looked smaller now. In her unconscious state she looked tiny and terrifyingly fragile, like the softest touch would break her. He didn't dare touch her.

No mark tainted the pale, porcelain skin but one; a gaudy purple bruise staining the left temple. The rest of her skin was mindlessly clear, unblemished, untainted by the impact that had nearly taken her life. And still could.

Not a drop of blood had been spilt. Not a single scratch to the perfect, white; almost transparent skin. She looked like a china doll.

He reached out to touch the limp hand, scared she'd dissolve away into nothingness before his eyes. Her skin was cold. He bit back a sob as a fresh wave of tears trickled down his face. His fingers curled around her limp ones, tracing the scar on her right palm from when she was nine.

Marian gripped his shoulder. "The nurse said she had this on her when they found her."

She handed him a bulging white envelope and slipped away. Unmarked, it had not been meant for him. Maybe it had not been meant for anybody. Maybe it had simply been a companion to take with her into death.

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	33. Discovering and losing

**At the end of my muse now! This is the last of the big chunk I wrote last year and now I'll have to find some more. *fingers crossed* Please R&R!!**

**Eek! _Arria_ please don't set the poodles on me!! (I want to live!) *cowers under the table in fright* I'll try not to kill her off. But you might hate me for this chappie!**

**_iheartlife89_ thanks for persevering through all my madness! I thought I wrote it somewhere but I must have forgotten! **

**_Bekaz13 _- Thankyou for you lovely comments! I'm awful at reviewing so I can sympathise. I look at the button and run!**

**Chapter 33:**

Guy perched awkwardly on the chair, clutching his sister's hand, feeling spare and unwanted. It brought back memories of three years ago, when his parents were arguing over who would take each child; and neither seemed to want him. And when they'd tried to take a legal case over custody, it had gotten so bitter than both he and Amber were taken into care for a while, until the trial had been sorted out.

He stared blankly at the envelope Marian had handed him, not yet spoiled by the water. He peeled open the edge, preserving it. A writing pad and a few loose photos fell out. The notebook, full of writing, he had sensed was private, and had left that. But the photos. They tore at his heart. He had never he seen her that happy, except for earlier, when she had been a shadow of what she looked in the photos. Her eyes were alive, sparkling, light behind them evident. Her skin was glowing, smile wide and happy. Maybe she'd wanted to take these memories into death.

He had never seen the boy. Heard about him, vague descriptions that he'd half listened to from his sister. The two were perfect for each other, a complete and beautiful whole, each a faultless contrast of the other, like light and dark, day and night, utterly comparable and one. She must have loved him. But why jump? Why leave the person she loved so much?

The photos, too, had the answer. The last photo held a deep sense of foreboding as he turned it over, noting that it was the only photo that was facing down, as if she hadn't wanted to see it. Slowly, he turned it, until the picture filled his vision, heart-rending, ultimate, and satisfying the last of his questions, as sadness and horror seeped into his heart.

A white marble tombstone filled the photo, flowers adorning the grave – white lilies - a sign of purity, innocence. And in copperplate writing; the name, the date – not two and a half years ago. Just after their parents' divorce.

How could he have been so ignorant of her feelings? How had it taken him this long to find that she was still mourning Liam, that Liam was no longer with her? And how long would she have left it before telling him?

Maybe she thought he wouldn't listen. Maybe she thought that he wouldn't understand.

That hurt too. That she couldn't trust him with her secrets. That he was too wrapped up in his own feelings to notice that she was hurting too.

He stared at the still body, willing her to open her eyes, so that he could apologise, tell her how selfish and egoistic and ignorant he'd been, how he'd make it up to her.

But she never moved. Not a muscle.

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He seeped back into his thoughts, still watching the shell of his sister, willing her to wake up.

Somehow, while he had been terrorising and bullying half the school, his little sister had been mourning the loss of the person she had loved with all her heart. Someone she was prepared to die to be with. And she had nearly succeeded.

Somehow, he'd never noticed. Never noticed that his younger sister had created a life for herself in the devastation of their parents' divorce, and then had it so cruelly ripped away. Somehow he'd always been to busy to notice her, or even that there was anything wrong. So wrapped up in how the divorce had affected him, he hadn't cared that there was life beyond that was being destroyed. Instead he had chosen to destroy, to crush the cruel world he lived in and make it hurt just as much as he did. That's why he had joined up with Vaisey. To make the world pay. To make it hurt.

It wasn't that he enjoyed violence. Or even hurting others. It just made the pain a little more easy to bear; knowing that other people were hurting just as much as him. It gave him power, in a horrible situation where he had no control over what was happening. It made him feel safe. Because for once, he could influence his own life, control other people and try to assuage that empty, hollow feeling he always felt when he came home.

But it only ever made him feel emptier. And lonely.

And yet she, his little sister had even tried to make him change. She had taken the time, amidst her grief, her devastation, to try and rehabilitate him back into society. And gradually, gradually, he had listened to her. Finally something could penetrate his heart other than the frustration, the constant anger, the loneliness that ate away at him inside.

Tiny changes, tiny, tiny. First the revision classes, letting Marian go; which broke his heart; and then making the peace with Will. He found that he didn't need Vaisey to cope with the world. But Vaisey was less eager to let him go. Maybe he had known that the gang would be violent. Maybe he had sent him out there alone, knowing full well that they were sadistic, brutal thugs that would sooner kill than make a deal. Maybe he had set it up, all along, from when he first realised that his henchman was breaking away.

And he didn't need friends like that.

Vaisey was dangerous, a caged lion, unpredictable and ruthless, and ultimately lethal. He spelled trouble. He didn't have a heart inside his chest, just a cold hard lump of steel that pulsed poison and venom around his bitter, angry body.

More beast than human. And best avoided.

If they all survived this, then he knew what to do. Apologise. Start again.

He was startled out of his reverie as a loud beeping reverberated through his being. The machine was beeping. Fast. Uneven. His heart raced, pacing as fast as his sister's as the machine continued its cycle, fast, fast, fast ………now nothing.

Time stopped, air thick and heavy in his ears. He was knocked out of the way as medical staff forced their way through, checking instruments, pulse. Nothing. Still nothing. The world blurred in slow motion, wheeling, twisting about him before disappearing, leaving him still watching his sister's limp, still form, as the doctors forced an electric current through her battered body.

The still body leapt as electricity raced through it, exciting dead nerves, tense muscles, electrical impulses for a second as it tried to shock the heart back into rhythm.

Still nothing. Nothing. Nothing.

The word reverberated inside his head again and again as the electricity pulsed eagerly through the damaged body.

He couldn't watch. Yes he could. He owed her this much to be here. At the end.


	34. Returning

_Yay!......i got a little bit of muse back.....excuse my excitement.....this chapter is a little bit random, but somehow it kinda fitted...._

_see what you think....please R&R xxx_

Thanks to my lovely reviewers who seem to be putting up with the fact that i am insanely inconsistent.......oh and thank you _Arria_ for not setting the poodles on me once again.....i'm sure i deserve them by now *hides*

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Shadows shifted at the edge of consciousness, prowling, snarling. Faceless, shapeless forms entombing her in a shroud of darkness, in the heavy, suffocating emptiness that hung dense as treacle.

She was in a chamber.

The sea of shadow-beings parted like fluid, like a dream, like they hadn't ever been there; just melting away and reappearing elsewhere.

A living darkness, a conscious entity of death.

They seemed to be drawn towards her, almost powerlessly swept like a leaf in an up-draught; before they were repelled by something akin to fear, wrenched away on the same current of consciousness.

Feeding? No, there was something like reverence in their faceless, voiceless awe that gave her the impression that they were fascinated by her.

A cold sensation prickled across her head, and she reached up to touch a smooth base of ivory and thorns entwined about her skull. Like a crown.

She laughed soundlessly, emotionlessly.

Queen of what? Death?

She turned at the scream of doors forced open, after being locked far too long; the echo pulsing like shivers through the chamber.

The shadows parted, drawing away from the figure that passed softly into the grey hall, youthful as the day he had died.

And though recognition throbbed through her being, she could not run to him. Her heart and mind had frozen in her body and the world tilted sickeningly.

"Liam." Her mouth went dry.

He was so close. Centimetres away. She reached out outstretched fingers, but to her horror they stopped midair, halted by some strange, mass-less force, like an invisible wall between them.

"Amber." His eyes were full of pain, but neither of them could breach the barrier.

"Why- Why can't I touch you?" she whispered.

"You're not dead."

"But I jumped! Why am I not dead?" her voice echoed hysterically around the chamber.

"You still have a life up there. There are people who need you." His voice was soft and sad.

"What if the whole reason I am here, is that I can't do it anymore? I can't...I just can't."

"Amber." She looked up into his steady gaze, "You have to live. No matter how much both of us want you to remain here. I want us to be together forever, but we can _still_ have forever. Life is short and I took my chances, but you have a second chance.

I will wait here for you. Forever."

She swallowed. "Forever."

He nodded. "And if you ever meet anyone better than me, and I'm sure they'll be a few, then...you have my blessing. But I will wait for you, whatever."

"They'll never be anyone else."

He smiled. "There will. I'll make sure of it. You can't be lonely your whole life. Otherwise it'll be all the longer, and not worth bothering with."

She looked at him sadly. "How do I get back?" she murmured.

"They're coming for you already."

"Who?"

Suddenly a sharp jolt of pain ruptured her chest, piercing flesh like a shattered rib, and she cried out.

Through the barrier, a cold hand slipped into hers. "Till the end of time." He whispered.

"I love you." She gasped as a fresh spasm of pain raced through her body.

"I love you too."

She was suddenly screaming as a lightning bolt of searing agony wracked her body.

They were pulling her from the death kingdom. She wanted to scream again, cling onto the shadow world and Liam with all her strength, but she had none left, and the tugging at her flesh grew stronger.

And a terrible yearning for her true flesh curdled in every cell of her body.

Her back arched and sparks flew from her fingertips. Her eyeballs burned like fire and she was melting in the fierce electrical current.

Only one could hear her cries.

Her fleshen cage shuddered with the force of the pull, every inch of her shaking with furious electricity, as it pulsed and roared through her veins.

And then she was thrust upwards into the light above, and the pain tossed her blistered mind into the depths of unconsciousness.

And the lone figure knelt in the hall of death, watching the body clutched to his chest fading gradually away, until it was gone.

And settled himself down for a long wait.

And somewhere in Nottingham County Hospital, a defibrillator beeped twice and a heart leapt back into rhythm.

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bit short......but i'm working on the next bit.....xxx


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